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Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2012  with  funding  from 

University  of  North  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hill 


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Ben  and  Sancho. 


Only  don't  be  hard  on  Sanch ;  he's  been  real  good  to  me,  and  we're 
fond  of  one  another."  —  Page  22. 


Under  the  Lilacs. 


BY 


LOUISA  M.    ALCOTT, 

AUTHOR  OF  "  LITTLE  WOMEN,"  "  AN  OLD-FASHIONED  GIRL,"  "  LITTLE  MEN," 

"EIGHT    COUSINS,"    "ROSE    IN    BLOOM,"    "JACK    AND    JILL," 

"  HOSPITAL  SKETCHES,"  "WORK,"  "SILVER  PITCHERS," 

'AUNT  JO'S  SCRAP-BAG." 


Wttk  ^itatrattotis. 


BOSTON: 

ROBERTS     BROTHERS. 

1892 


Copyright,  1878, 
By  Louisa  M.  Alcott 


University  Press: 
John  Wilson  &  Son,  Cambridge. 


CONTENTS. 


■     ♦      ■ 

OHAPTEB  FAOE 

I.     A  Mysterious  Dog ] 

II.  Where  they  found  his  Master     ...  12 

III.  Ben 20 

IV.  His  Story 29 

V.     Ben  gets  a  Place 37 

VI.     A  Circulating  Library 46 

VII.    New  Friends  trot  in 53 

VHL    Miss  Celia's  Man 63 

IX.    A  Happy  Tea 73 

X.  A  Heavy  Trouble 86 

XI.  Sunday 94 

XH.     Good  Times 117 

Xin.     Somebody  runs  away 132 

XIV.     Somebody  gets  lost 147 

XV.    Ben's  Ride 167 

XVI.    Detective  Thornton 184 

XVH.    Betty's  Bravery 200 

XVIII.     Bows  and  Arrows 217 

XIX.     Speaking  Pieces 229 

XX.     Ben's  Birthday 243 

XXI.     Cupid's  Last  Appearance 255 

XXH.     A  Boy's  Bargain 268 

XXHL     Somebody  Comes 280 

XXIV.     The  Great  Gate  is  opened 292 


696709 


UNDER   THE    LILACS. 

CHAPTER   I. 
A   MYSTERIOUS  DOG. 

THE  elm-tree  avenue  was  all  overgrown,  the  great 
gate  was  never  unlocked,  and  the  old  house  had 
been  shut  up  for  several  years.  Yet  voices  were  heard 
about  the  place,  the  lilacs  nodded  over  the  high  wall 
as  if  they  said,  "  We  could  tell  fine  secrets  if  we  chose," 
and  the  mullein  outside  the  gate  made  haste  to  reach 
the  keyhole,  that  it  might  peep  in  and  see  what  was 
going  on. 

If  it  had  suddenly  grown  up  like  a  magic  beanstalk, 
and  looked  in  on  a  certain  June  day,  it  would  have  seen 
a  droll  but  pleasant  sight,  for  somebody  evidently  was 
going  to  have  a  party. 

From  the  gate  to  the  porch  went  a  wide  walk,  paved 
with  smooth  slabs  of  dark  stone,  and  bordered  with  the 
tall  bushes  which  met  overhead,  making  a  green  roof. 
All  sorts  of  neglected  flowers  and  wild  weeds  grew 
between  their  stems,  covering  the  walls  of  this  summer 
parlor  with  the  prettiest  tapestry.  A  board,  propped  on 
two  blocks  of  wood,  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  walk, 
covered  with  a  little  plaid  shawl  much  the  worse  for 
wear,  and  on  it  a  miniature  tea-service  was  set  forth 
1  A 


Bab  and   Betty. 

Presently  voices  were  heard  approaching,  and  through  the  arch  which 
led  to  a  side  path  came  two  little  girls."  —  Page  3. 


A   MYSTERIOUS  DOG.  3 

hung  up  there  to  be  stared  at  by  thirteen  of  her  kindred  ? 
Was  she  a  criminal,  the  sight  of  whose  execution  threw 
them  flat  upon  their  backs  in  speechless  horror?  Or 
was  she  an  idol,  to  be  adored  in  that  humble  posture  ? 
Neither,  my  friends.  She  was  blonde  Belinda,  set,  or 
rather  hung,  aloft,  in  the  place  of  honor,  for  this  was 
her  seventh  birthday,  and  a  superb  ball  was  about  to 
celebrate  the  great  event. 

All  were  evidently  awaiting  a  summons  to  the  festive 
board;  but  such  was  the  perfect  breeding  of  these 
dolls,  that  not  a  single  eye  out  of  the  whole  twenty- 
seven  (Dutch  Hans  had  lost  one  of  the  black  beads  from 
his  worsted  countenance)  turned  for  a  moment  toward 
the  table,  or  so  much  as  winked,  as  they  lay  in  decorous 
rows,  gazing  with  mute  admiration  at  Belinda.  She, 
unable  to  repress  the  joy  and  pride  which  swelled  her 
sawdust  bosom  till  the  seams  gaped,  gave  an  occasional 
bounce  as  the  wind  waved  her  yellow  skirts,  or  made 
the  blue  boots  dance  a  sort  of  jig  upon  the  door.  Hang 
ing  was  evidently  not  a  painful  operation,  for  she  smiled 
contentedly,  and  looked  as  if  the  red  ribbon  around  her 
neck  was  not  uncomfortably  tight ;  therefore,  if  slow 
suffocation  suited  her,  who  else  had  any  right  to  com- 
plain? So  a  pleasing  silence  reigned,  not  even  broken 
by  a  snore  from  Dinah,  the  top  of  whose  turban  alone 
was  visible  above  the  coverlet,  or  a  cry  from  baby  Jane, 
though  her  bare  feet  stuck  out  in  a  way  that  would  have 
produced  shrieks  from  a  less  well-trained  infant. 

Presently  voices  were  heard  approaching,  and  through 
the  arch  which  led  to  a  side-path  came  two  little  girls, 
one  carrying  a  small  pitcher,  the  other  proudly  bearing, 
a  basket  covered  with    a   napkin.     They  looked   like 


4  UNDER   THE  LILACS 

twins,  but  were  not,  for  Bab  was  a  year  older  than 
Betty,  though  only  an  inch  taller.  Both  had  on  brown 
calico  frocks,  much  the  worse  for  a  week's  wear ;  but 
clean  pink  pinafores,  in  honor  of  the  occasion,  made  up 
for  that,  as  well  as  the  gray  stockings  and  thick  boots 
Both  had  round,  rosy  faces  rather  sunburnt,  pug  noses 
somewhat  freckled,  merry  blue  eyes,  and  braided  tails 
of  hair  hanging  down  their  backs  like  those  of  the  dear 
little  Kenwigses. 

"Don't  they  look  sweet?"  cried  Bab,  gazing  with 
maternal  pride  upon  the  left-hand  row  of  dolls,  who 
might  appropriately  have  sung  in  chorus,  "We  art 
seven." 

"Very  nice;  but  my  Belinda  beats  them  all.  I  do 
think  she  is  the  splendidest  child  that  ever  was  !  "  And 
Betty  set  down  the  basket  to  run  and  embrace  the  sus- 
pended darling,  just  then  kicking  up  her  heels  with 
joyful  abandon. 

"  The  cake  can  be  cooling  while  we  fix  the  children. 
It  does  smell  perfectly  delicious  ! "  said  Bab,  lifting  the 
napkin  to  hang  over  the  basket,  fondly  regarding  the 
little  round  loaf  that  lay  inside. 

u  Leave  some  smell  for  me  !  "  commanded  Betty,  rush- 
ing back  to  get  her  fair  share  of  the  spicy  fragrance. 

The  pug  noses  sniffed  it  up  luxuriously,  and  the  bright 
eyes  feasted  upon  the  loveliness  of  the  cake,  so  brown 
and  shiny,  with  a  tipsy-looking  B  in  pie-crust  staggering 
down  one  side,  instead  of  sitting  properly  a-top. 

"  Ma  let  me  put  it  on  the  very  last  minute,  and  it 
baked  so  hard  I  couldn't  pick  it  off.  We  can  give  Be- 
linda that  piece,  so  it 's  just  as  well,"  observed  Betty. 
taking  the  lead,  as  her  child  was  queen  of  the  revel. 


A   MYSTERIOUS  DOG.  5 

"  Let's  set  them  round,  so  they  can  see  too,"  pro- 
posed Bab,  going,  with  a  hop,  skip,  and  jump,  to 
collect  her  young  family. 

Betty  agreed,  and  for  several  minutes  both  were  ab 
sorbed  in  seating  their  dolls  about  the  table,  for  some  of 
the  dear  things  were  so  limp  they  wouldn't  sit  up  ;  and 
others  so  stiff  they  wouldn't  sit  down,  and  all  sorts  of 
seats  had  to  be  contrived  to  suit  the  peculiarities  of 
their  spines.  This  arduous  task  accomplished,  the 
fond  mammas  stepped  back  to  enjoy  the  spectacle, 
which,  I  assure  you,  was  an  impressive  one.  Belinda 
sat  with  great  dignity  at  the  head,  her  hands  genteelly 
holding  a  pink  cambric  pocket-handkerchief  in  her  lap. 
Josephus,  her  cousin,  took  the  foot,  elegantly  arrayed 
in  a  new  suit  of  purple  and  green  gingham,  with  his 
speaking  countenance  much  obscured  by  a  straw  hat 
several  sizes  too  large  for  him  ;  while  on  either  side  sat 
guests  of  every  size,  complexion,  and  costume,  pro- 
ducing a  very  gay  and  varied  effect,  as  all  were  dressed 
with  a  noble  disregard  of  fashion. 

"  They  will  like  to  see  us  get  tea.  Did  you  forget 
the  buns  ?  "  inquired  Betty,  anxiously. 

"  No ;  got  them  in  my  pocket."  And  Bab  produced 
from  that  chaotic  cupboard  two  rather  stale  and  crumbly 
ones,  saved  from  lunch  for  the  fete.  These  were  cut 
up  and  arranged  in  plates,  forming  a  graceful  circle 
around  the  cake,  still  in  its  basket. 

"  Ma  couldn't  spare  much  milk,  so  we  must  mix 
water  with  it.  Strong  tea  isn't  good  for  children,  she 
says."  And  Bab  contentedly  surveyed  the  gill  of  skim- 
milk  which  was  to  satisfy  the  thirst  of  the  company. 

"  While  the  tea  draws  and  the  cake  cools,  let's  sit 


6  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

down  and  rest ;  I  'm  so  tired  !  "  sighed  Betty,  dropping 
down  on  the  door- step  and  stretching  out  the  stout  little 
legs  which  had  been  on  the  go  all  day ;  for  Saturday 
had  its  tasks  as  well  as  its  fun,  and  much  business  had 
preceded  this  unusual  pleasure. 

Bab  went  and  sat  beside  her,  looking  idly  down  the 
walk  toward  the  gate,  where  a  fine  cobweb  shone  in  the 
afternoon  sun. 

"  Ma  says  she  is  going  over  the  house  in  a  day  or 
two,  now  it  is  warm  and  dry  after  the  storm,  and  we 
may  go  with  her.  You  know  she  wouldn't  take  us  in 
the  fall,  'cause  we  had  whooping-cough,  and  it  was 
damp  there.  Now  we  shall  see  all  the  nice  things ; 
won't  it  be  fun?"  observed  Bab,  after  a  pause. 

"  Yes,  indeed  !  Ma  says  there 's  lots  of  books  in  one 
room,  and  I  can  look  at  'em  while  she  goes  round. 
May  be  I  '11  have  time  to  read  some,  and  then  I  can  tell 
you,"  answered  Betty,  who  dearly  loved  stories,  and 
seldom  got  any  new  ones. 

"I'd  rather  see  the  old  spinning-wheel  up  garret,  and 
the  big  pictures,  and  the  queer  clothes  in  the  blue  chest. 
It  makes  me  mad  to  have  them  all  shut  up  there,  when 
we  might  have  such  fun  with  them.  I'd  just  like  to 
bang  that  old  door  down !  "  And  Bab  twisted  round  to 
give  it  a  thump  with  her  boots.  "  You  needn't  laugh  ; 
you  know  you'd  like  it  as  much  as  me,"  she  added, 
twisting  back  again,  rather  ashamed  of  her  impatience, 

44 1  didn't  laugh." 

"  You  did !  Don't  you  suppose  I  know  what  laugh* 
ing  is  ?  " 

"  I  guess  I  know  I  didn't." 

u  You  did  laugh  !     How  darst  you  tell  such  a  fib?  " 


A   MYSTERIOUS  BOG.  7 

•4  If  you  say  that  again  I'll  take  Belinda  and  go  right 
home  ;  then  what  will  you  do  ?  " 

44  I'll  eat  up  the  cake." 

"  No,  you  won't !  It 's  mine,  Ma  said  so  ;  and  you 
are  only  company,  so  you  'd  better  behave,  or  I  won't 
have  any  party  at  all,  so  now." 

This  awful  threat  calmed  Bab's  anger  at  once,  and 
she  hastened  to  introduce  a  safer  subject. 

"Nevermind;  don't  let's  fight  before  the  children. 
Do  you  know,  Ma  says  she  will  let  us  play  in  the  coach- 
house next  time  it  rains,  and  keep  the  key  if  we  want 
to." 

"  Oh,  goody!  that's  because  we  told  her  how  we 
found  the  little  window  under  the  woodbine,  and  didn't 
try  to  go  in,  though  we  might  have  just  as  easy  as 
not,"  cried  Betty,  appeased  at  once,  for,  after  a  ten 
years'  acquaintance,  she  had  grown  used  to  Bab's  pep- 
pery temper. 

"  I  suppose  the  coach  will  be  all  dust  and  rats  and 
spiders,  but  I  don't  care.  You  and  the  dolls  can 
be  the  passengers,  and  I  shall  sit  up  in  front  and 
drive." 

"You  always  do.  I  shall  like  riding  better  than 
being  horse  all  the  time,  with  that  old  wooden  bit  in 
my  mouth,  and  you  jerking  my  arms  off,"  said  poor 
Betty,  who  was  tired  of  being  horse  continually. 

"I  guess  we'd  better  go  and  get  the  water  now," 
suggested  Bab,  feeling  that  it  was  not  safe  to  encourage 
her  sister  in  such  complaints. 

"  It  is  not  many  people  who  would  dare  to  leave  their 
children  all  alone  with  such  a  lovely  cake,  and  know 
they  wouldn't  pick  at  it,"  said  Betty  proudly,  as  they 


8  UNDER   THE  LILACS. 

trotted  away  to  the  spring,  each  with  a  little  tin  pail  in 
her  hand. 

Alas,  for  the  faith  of  these  too  confiding  mammas ! 
They  were  gone  about  five  minutes,  and  when  they 
returned  a  sight  met  their  astonished  eyes  which  pro- 
duced a  simultaneous  shriek  of  horror.  Flat  upon  theii 
faces  lay  the  fourteen  dolls,  and  the  cake,  the  cherished 
cake,  was  gone ! 

For  an  instant  the  little  girls  could  only  stand  motion- 
less, gazing  at  the  dreadful  scene.  Then  Bab  cast  her 
water-pail  wildly  away,  and,  doubling  up  her  fist,  cried 
out  fiercely,  — 

"It  was  that  Sally!  She  said  she'd  pay  me  foi 
slapping  her  when  she  pinched  little  Mary  Ann,  and 
now  she  has.  I  '11  give  it  to  her !  You  run  that  way. 
I  '11  run  this.     Quick  !  quick !  " 

Away  they  went,  Bab  racing  straight  on,  and  be- 
wildered Betty  turning  obediently  round  to  trot  in  the 
opposite  direction  as  fast  as  she  could,  with  the  watei 
splashing  all  over  her  as  she  ran,  for  she  had  forgotten 
to  put  down  her  pail.  Round  the  house  they  went,  and 
met  with  a  crash  at  the  back  door,  but  no  sign  of  the 
thief  appeared. 

"  In  the  lane  !  "  shouted  Bab. 

"  Down  by  the  spring  !  "  panted  Betty  ;  and  off  they 
went  again,  one  to  scramble  up  a  pile  of  stones  and  look 
over  the  wall  into  the  avenue,  the  other  to  scamper  to 
the  spot  they  had  just  left.  Still,  nothing  appeared  but 
the  dandelions'  innocent  faces  looking  up  at  Bab,  and  a 
brown  bird  scared  from  his  bath  in  the  spring  by  Betty's 
hasty  approach. 

Back  they  rushed,  but  only  to  meet  a  new  scare, 


A    MYSTERIOUS   DOG.  9 

which  made  them  both  cry  "Ow!"  and  fly  into  the 
porch  for  refuge. 

A  strange  dog  was  sitting  calmly  among  the  ruins  of 
the  feast,  licking  his  lips  after  basely  eating  up  the  last 
poor  bits  of  bun,  when  he  had  bolted  the  cake,  basket, 
*nd  all,  apparently. 

"Oh,  the  horrid  thing!"  cried  Bab,  longing  to  give 
battle,  but  afraid,  for  the  dog  wa3  a  peculiar  as  well  as 
a  dishonest  animal. 

"He  looks  like  our  China  poodle,  doesn't  he?" 
whispered  Betty,  making  herself  as  small  as  possible 
behind  her  more  valiant  sister. 

He  certainly  did ;  for,  though  much  larger  and  dirtier 
than  the  well-washed  China  dog,  this  live  one  had  the 
same  tassel  at  the  end  of  his  tail,  ruffles  of  hair  round 
his  ankles,  and  a  body  shaven  behind  and  curly  before. 
His  eyes,  however,  were  yellow,  instead  of  glassy  black, 
like  the  other's ;  his  red  nose  worked  as  he  cocked  it 
up,  as  if  smelling  for  more  cakes,  in  the  most  impudent 
manner  ;  and  never,  during  the  three  years  he  had  stood 
on  the  parlor  mantel-piece,  had  the  China  poodle  done 
the  surprising  feats  with  which  this  mysterious  dog 
now  proceeded  to  astonish  the  little  girls  almost  out  of 
their  wits. 

First  he  sat  up,  put  his  fore-paws  together,  and  begged 
prettify ;  then  he  suddenly  flung  his  hind  legs  into  the 
air,  and  walked  about  with  great  ease.  Hardly  had  they 
recovered  from  this  shock,  when  the  hind  legs  came 
down,  the  fore  legs  went  up,  and  he  paraded  in  a  sol- 
dierly manner  to  and  fro,  like  a  sentinel  on  guard.  But 
the  crowning  performance  was  when  he  took  his  tail  in 
his  month  and  waltzed  down  the  walk,  over  the  prostrate 
l* 


10  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

dolls,   to  the  gate  and  back  again,  barely  escaping  a 
general  upset  of  the  ravaged  table. 

Bab  and  Betty  could  only  hold  each  other  tight  and 
squeal  with  delight,  for  never  had  they  seen  any  thing  so 
funny  ;  but,  when  the  gymnastics  ended,  and  the  dizzy 
dog  came  and  stood  on  the  step  before  them  barking 
loudly,  with  that  pink  nose  of  his  sniffing  at  theii 
feet,  and  his  queer  e}Tes  fixed  sharply  upon  th/mi,  then 
amusement  turned  to  fear  again,  and  they  dared  not  stir 

"  Whish,  go  away  !  "  commanded  Bab. 

"  Scat !  "  meekly  quavered  Betty. 

To  their  great  relief,  the  poodle  gave  several  more 
inquiring  barks,  and  then  vanished  as  suddenly  as  he 
appeared.  "With  one  impulse,  the  children  ran  to  see 
what  became  of  him,  and,  after  a  brisk  scamper  through 
the  orchard,  saw  the  tasselled  tail  disappear  under  the 
fence  at  the  far  end. 

"Where  do  you  s'pose  he  came  from?"  asked  Betty 
stopping  to  rest  on  a  big  stone. 

"I'd  like  to  know  where  he's  gone,  too,  and  give 
him  a  good  beating,  old  thief!  "  scolded  Bab,  remember- 
ing their  wrongs. 

"  Oh,  dear,  yes  !  I  hope  the  cake  burnt  him  dread- 
fully if  he  did  eat  it,"  groaned  Betty,  sadly  remembering 
the  dozen  good  raisins  she  chopped  up,  and  the  "  lots 
of  'lasses  "  mother  put  into  the  dear  lost  loaf. 

"  The  party 's  all  spoilt,  so  we  may  as  well  go  home  ;  v 
and  Bab  mournfully  led  the  way  back. 

Betty  puckered  up  her  face  to  cry,  but  burst  out 
laughing  in  spite  of  her  woe.  "  It  was  so  funny  to  see 
him  spin  round  and  walk  on  his  head  !  I  wish  he  'd  do 
*  all  over  again  ;  don't  you? " 


A   MYSTERIOUS  DOG.  11 

u  Yes  :  but  I  hate  him  just  the  same.  I  wonder  what 
Ma  will  say  when  —  why  !  why !  "  and  Bab  stopped  short 
in  the  arch,  with  her  eyes  as  round  and  almost  as  large 
as  the  blue  saucers  on  the  tea-tray. 

"  What  is  it?  oh,  what  is  it?"  cried  Betty,  all  ready 
to  run  away  if  any  new  terror  appeared. 

"Look!  there!  it's  come  back!"  said  Bab  in  at. 
awe-stricken  whisper,  pointing  to  the  table. 

Betty  did  look,  and  her  eyes  opened  even  wider,  — 
as  well  they  might,  —  for  there,  just  where  they  first 
put  it,  was  the  lost  cake,  unhurt,  unchanged,  except 
that  the  big  B  had  coasted  a  little  further  down  the 
gingerbread  hill. 


CHAPTER   II. 
WHERE   THEY  FOUND  HIS  MASTER. 

NEITHER  spoke  for  a  minute,  astonishment  being 
too  great  for  words ;  then,  as  by  one  impulse, 
both  stole  up  and  touched  the  cake  with  a  timid  finger, 
quite  prepared  to  see  it  fly  away  in  some  mysteri- 
ous and  startling  manner.  It  remained  sitting  tran- 
quilly in  the  basket,  however,  and  the  children  drew  a 
long  breath  of  relief,  for,  though  they  did  not  believe 
in  fairies,  the  late  performances  did  seem  rather  like 
witchcraft. 

"The  dog  didn't  eat  it !  " 

"Sally  didn't  take  it!" 

"  How  do  you  know?  " 

"  She  never  would  have  put  it  back." 

"Who  did?" 

"  Can't  tell,  but  I  forgive  'em." 

"  What  shall  we  do  now?  "  asked  Betty,  feeling  as  if 
it  would  be  very  difficult  to  settle  down  to  a  quiet  tea- 
party  after  such  unusual  excitement. 

"  Eat  that  cake  up  just  as  fast  as  ever  we  can,"  and 
Bab  divided  the  contested  delicacy  with  one  chop  of  the 
big  knife,  bound  to  make  sure  of  her  own  share  at  all 
events. 

It  did  not  take  long,  for  they  washed  it  down  witb 


WHERE   THEY  FOUND  HIS  MASTER.        13 

sips  of  milk,  and  ate  as  fast  as  possible,  glancing  round 
ali  the  while  to  see  if  the  queer  dog  was  coming  again. 

"  There !  now  I  'd  like  to  see  any  one  take  my  cake 
away,"  said  Bab,  defiantly  crunching  her  half  of  the 
pie-crust  B. 

"Or  mine  either,"  coughed  Betty,  choking  over  a 
raisin  that  wouldn't  go  down  in  a  hurry. 

"  We  might  as  well  clear  up,  and  play  there  had  "been 
an  earthquake,"  suggested  Bab,  feeling  that  some  such 
convulsion  of  Nature  was  needed  to  explain  satisfactorily 
the  demoralized  condition  of  her  family. 

"  That  will  be  splendid.  My  poor  Linda  was  knocked 
right  over  on  her  nose.  Darlin'  child,  come  to  your 
mother  and  be  fixed,"  purred  Betty,  lifting  the  fallen 
idol  from  a  grove  of  chick  weed,  and  tenderly  brushing 
the  dirt  from  Belinda's  heroically  smiling  face. 

"  She  '11  have  croup  to-night  as  sure  as  the  world. 
We  'd  better  make  up  some  squills  out  of  this  sugar  and 
water,"  said  Bab,  who  dearly  loved  to  dose  the  dollies 
all  round. 

"  P'r'aps  she  will,  but  you  needn't  begin  to  sneeze 
yet  awhile.  I  can  sneeze  for  my  own  children,  thank 
you,  ma'am,"  returned  Betty,  sharply,  for  her  usually 
amiable  spirit  had  been  ruffled  by  the  late  occurrences. 

UI  didn't  sneeze!  I've  got  enough  to  do  to  talk 
and  cry  and  cough  for  my  own  poor  dears,  without  both- 
ering about  yours,"  cried  Bab,  even  more  ruffled  than 
her  sister. 

"Then  who  did?  I  heard  a  real  live  sneeze  just 
as  plain  as  any  thing,"  and  Betty  looked  up  to  the 
green  roof  above  her,  as  if  the  sound  came  from  that 
direction. 


14  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

A  yellow-bird  sat  swinging  and  chirping  on  the  tal] 
lilac-bush,  but  no  other  living  thing  was  in  sight. 

"Birds  don't  sneeze,  do  they?"  asked  Betty,  eying 
little  Goldy  suspiciously. 

"  You  goose  !  of  course  they  don't." 

"Well,  I  should  just  like  to  know  who  is  laughing 
and  sneezing  round  here.  May  be  it  is  the  dog,"  sug- 
gested Betty,  looking  relieved. 

"I  never  heard  of  a  dog's  laughing,  except  Mother 
Hubbard's.  This  is  such  a  queer  one,  ma}'  be  he  can, 
though.  I  wonder  where  he  went  to  ?  "  and  Bab  took  a 
survey  down  both  the  side-paths,  quite  longing  to  see 
the  funny  poodle  again. 

"  I  know  where  I'm  going  to,"  said  Betty,  piling  the 
dolls  into  her  apron  with  more  haste  than  care.  "I'm 
going  right  straight  home  to  tell  Ma  all  about  it.  I 
don't  like  such  actions,  and  I'm  afraid  to  stay." 

"  I  ain't ;  but  I  guess  it  is  going  to  rain,  so  I  shall 
have  to  go  any  way,"  answered  Bab,  taking  advantage 
of  the  black  clouds  rolling  up  the  sky,  for  she  scorned 
to  own  that  she  was  afraid  of  any  thing. 

Clearing  the  table  in  a  summary  manner  by  catching 
up  the  four  corners  of  the  cloth,  Bab  puA  the  rattling 
bundle  into  her  apron,  flung  her  children  on  the  top.  and 
pronounced  herself  ready  to  depart.  Betty  lingered  an 
instant  to  pick  up  odds  and  ends  that  might  be  spoilt 
by  the  rain,  and,  when  she  turned  from  taking  the  red 
halter  off  the  knocker,  two  lovely  pink  roses  lay  on  the 
stone  steps. 

"  Oh,  Bab,  just  see  !  Here 's  the  very  ones  we  wanted. 
Wasn't  it  nice  of  the  wand  to  blow  'em  down?"  she 
called  out,  picking  them  up  and  running  after  her  sister, 


WHERE   THEY  FOUND  HIS  MASTER.       16 

who  had  strolled  moodily  along,  still  looking  about  for 
her  sworn  foe,  Sally  Folsom. 

The  flowers  soothed  the  feelings  of  the  little  girls, 
because  they  had  longed,  for  them,  and  bravely  resisted 
the  temptation  to  climb  up  the  trellis  and  help  them- 
selves, since  their  mother  had  forbidden  such  feats, 
owing  to  a  fall  Bab  got  trying  to  reach  a  honeysuckle 
from  the  vine  which  ran  all  over  the  porch. 

Home  they  went  and  poured  out  their  tale,  to  Mrs. 
Moss's  great  amusement ;  for  she  saw  in  it  only  some 
playmate's  prank,  and  was  not  much  impressed  by  the 
mysterious  sneeze  and  laugh. 

44  We'll  have  a  grand  rummage  Monday,  and  find  out 
what  is  going  on  over  there,"  was  all  she  said. 

But  M;s.  Moss  could  not  keep  her  promise,  for  on 
Monday  it  still  rained,  and  the  little  girls  paddled  off  to 
scliool  like  a  pair  of  young  ducks,  enjoying  every  puddle 
they  came  to,  since  India-rubber  boots  made  wading  a 
delicious  possibility.  They  took  their  dinner,  and  at 
noon  regaled  a  crowd  of  comrades  with  an  account  of 
the  mysterious  dog,  who  appeared  to  be  haunting  the 
neighborhood,  as  several  of  the  other  children  had  seen 
him  examining  their  back  yards  with  interest.  He  had 
begged  of  them,  but  to  none  had  he  exhibited  his  ac- 
complishments except  Bab  and  Betty  ;  and  they  wen 
therefore  much  set  up,  and  called  him  "  our  dog"  with 
an  air.  The  cake  transaction  remained  a  riddle,  ioj 
Sally  Folsom  solemnly  declared  that  she  was  playing 
tag  in  Mamie  Snow's  barn  at  that  identical  time.  No  one 
had  been  near  the  old  house  but  the  two  children,  and 
«u>  one  could  throw  any  light  upon  that  singular  affair. 

It    produced    a    great    effect,    however;    for    even 


16  UNDER    THE   LILACS. 

"teacher"  was  interested,  and  told  such  amazing  tales 
of  a  juggler  she  once  saw,  that  doughnuts  were  left  for- 
gotten in  dinner-baskets,  and  wedges  of  pie  remained 
suspended  in  the  air  for  several  minutes  at  a  time,  in- 
stead of  vanishing  with  miraculous  rapidity  as  usual. 
At  afternoon  recess,  which  the  girls  had  first,  Bab 
nearly  dislocated  every  joint  of  her  little  body  trying 
to  imitate  the  poodle's  antics.  She  had  practised  on 
her  bed  with  great  success,  but  the  wood-shed  floor 
was  a  different  thing,  as  her  knees  and  elbows  soon 
testified. 

"It  looked  just  as  easy  as  any  thing;  I  don't  see 
how  he  did  it,"  she  said,  coming  down  with  a  bump  after 
vainly  attempting  to  walk  on  her  hands. 

"  My  gracious,  there  he  is  this  very  minute  !  "  cried 
Betty,  who  sat  on  a  little  wood-pile  near  the  door. 

There  was  a  general  rush,  and  sixteen  small  girla 
gazed  out  into  the  rain  as  eagerly  as  if  to  behold  Cin- 
derella's magic  coach,  instead  of  one  forlorn  dog  trotting 
by  through  the  mud. 

' '  Oh,  do  call  him  in  and  make  him  dance  !  "  cried  the 
girls,  all  chirping  at  once,  till  it  sounded  as  if  a  flock 
of  sparrows  had  taken  possession  of  the  shed. 

"  1  will  call  him,  —  he  knows  me"  and  Bab  scrambled 
up,  forgetting  how  she  had  chased  the  poodle  and  called 
him  names  two  days  ago. 

He  evidently  had  not  forgotten,  however  ;  for,  though 
he  paused  and  looked  wistfully  at  them,  he  would  not 
approach,  but  stood  dripping  in  the  rain,  with  his  frills 
much  bedraggled,  while  his  tasselled  tail  wagged  slowly, 
and  his  pink  nose  pointed  suggestively  to  the  pails  and 
baskets,  nearly  empty  now. 


WHERE   THEY  FOUND  HIS  MASTER.       17 

"  He's  hungiy  ;  give  him  something  to  eat,  and  then 
he'll  see  that  we  don't  want  to  hurt  him,"  suggested 
Sally,  starting  a  contribution  with  her  last  bit  of  bread 
and  butter. 

Bab  caught  up  her  new  pail,  and  collected  all  the 
odds  and  ends  ;  then  tried  to  beguile  the  poor  beast  in 
to  eat  and  be  comforted.  But  he  only  came  as  far  as 
the  door,  and,  sitting  up,  begged  with  such  imploring 
eyes  that  Bab  put  down  the  pail  and  stepped  back, 
saying  pitifulty,  — 

"The  poor  thing  is  starved  ;  let  him  eat  all  he  wants, 
and  we  won't  touch  him." 

The  girls  drew  back  with  little  clucks  of  interest  and 
compassion  ;  but  I  regret  to  say  their  charity  was  not 
rewarded  as  they  expected,  for,  the  minute  the  coast  was 
clear,  the  dog  marched  boldly  up,  seized  the  handle  of 
the  pail  in  his  mouth,  and  was  off  with  it,  galloping 
down  the  road  at  a  great  pace.  Shrieks  arose  from  the 
children,  especially  Bab  and  Betty,  basely  bereaved  of 
their  new  dinner-pail ;  but  no  one  could  follow  the  thief, 
for  the  bell  rang,  and  in  the}^  went,  so  much  excited 
that  the  bo}'S  rushed  tumultuously  forth  to  discover  the 
cause. 

By  the  time  school  was  over  the  sun  was  out,  and  Bab 
and  Betty  hastened  home  to  tell  their  wrongs  and  be 
comforted  by  mother,  who  did  it  most  effectually. 

"Never  mind  dears,  I'll  get  you  another  pail,  if  he 
does  n't  bring  it  back  as  he  did  before.  As  it  is  too 
wet  for  you  to  play  out,  you  shall  go  and  see  the  old 
coach-house  as  I  promised.  Keep  on  your  rubbers  and 
come  along." 

This  delightful  prospect  much  assuaged  their  woe,  and 


18  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

away  Ihey  went,  skipping  gayl}T  down  the  gra veiled  path 
while  Mrs.  Moss  followed,  with  skirts  well  tucked  up, 
and  a  great  bunch  of  keys  in  her  hand  ;  for  she  lived  at 
the  Lodge,  and  had  charge  of  the  premises. 

The  small  door  of  the  coach-house  was  fastened  inside, 
but  the  large  one  had  a  padlock  on  it ;  and  this  being 
quickly  unfastened,  one  half  swung  open,  and  the  little 
girls  ran  in,  too  eager  and  curious  even  to  cry  out 
when  they  found  themselves  at  last  in  possession  of  the 
long-coveted  old  carriage.  A  dusty,  musty  concern 
enough ;  but  it  had  a  high  seat,  a  door,  steps  that  let 
down,  and  many  other  charms  which  rendered  it  most 
desirable  in  the  eyes  of  children. 

Bab  made  straight  for  the  box  and  Betty  for  the 
door ;  but  both  came  tumbling  down  faster  than  they 
went  up,  when  from  the  gloom  of  the  interior  came 
a  shrill  bark,  and  a  low  voice  saying  quickly,  "  Down, 
Sancho  !  down  !  " 

"Who  is  there?"  demanded  Mrs.  Moss,  in  a  stern 
tone,  backing  toward  the  door  with  both  children  cling- 
ing to  her  skirts. 

The  well-known  curly  white  head  was  popped  out  of 
the  broken  window,  and  a  mild  whine  seemed  to  say, 
"  Don't  be  alarmed,  ladies  ;  we  won't  hurt  you." 

"  Come  out  this  minute,  or  I  shall  have  to  come  and 
get  you,"  called  Mrs.  Moss,  growing  very  brave  all  of 
a  sudden  as  she  caught  sight  of  a  pair  of  small,  dusty 
shoes  under  the  coach. 

"  Yes,'m,  I'm  coming  as  fast  as  I  can,"  answered  a 
meek  voice,  as  what  appeared  to  be  a  bundle  of  rags 
leaped  out  of  the  dark,  followed  by  the  poodle,  who 
immediately  sat  down  at  the  bare  feet  of  his  owner  with 


WHERE   THEY  FOUND  HIS  MASTER.       19 

a  watchful  air,  as  if  ready  to  assault  any  one  who  might 
approach  too  near. 

"  Now,  then,  who  are  you,  and  how  did  you  get 
here?"  asked  Mrs.  Moss,  trying  to  speak  sternly, 
though  her  motherly  eyes  were  already  full  of  pity  ae 
they  rested  on  the  forlorn  little  figure  before  her. 


CHAPTER    IIL 

BEN. 

"  TT)LEASE,  'M,  my  name  is  Ben  Brown,  and  I'm 

-L        travellin'." 

"  Where  are  you  going?" 

"  Anywheres  to  get  work." 

"  What  sort  of  work  can  you  do?" 

"  All  kinds.     I  'm  used  to  horses." 

"  Bless  me  !  such  a  little  chap  as  you?" 

"  I  'm  twelve,  ma'am,  and  can  ride  any  thing  on  four 
legs  ; "  and  the  small  boy  gave  a  nod  that  seemed  to  say, 
"  Bring  on  your  Cruisers.     I'm  ready  for  'em." 

"Haven't  you  got  any  folks?"  asked  Mrs.  Moss, 
amused  but  still  anxious,  for  the  sunburnt  face  was 
very  thin,  the  eyes  hollow  with  hunger  or  pain,  and  the 
ragged  figure  leaned  on  the  wheel  as  if  too  weak  or 
weary  to  stand  alone. 

"  No,  'm,  not  of  my  own  ;  and  the  people  I  was  left 
with  beat  me  so,  I  —  run  away."  The  last  words  seemed 
to  bolt  out  against  his  will,  as  if  the  woman's  sympathy 
irresistibly  won  the  child's  confidence. 

"Then  I  don't  blame  you.  But  how  did  you  gel 
here?" 

"  I  was  so  tired  I  couldn't  go  any  further,  and  1 
thought  the  folks  up  here  at  the  big  house  would  take 


BEN.  21 

me  in.     But  the  gate  was  locked,  and  I  was  so  dis- 
couraged, I  jest  laid  down  outside  and  give  up." 

"  Poor  little  soul,  I  don't  wonder,"  said  Mrs.  Moss, 
while  the  children  looked  deeply  interested  at  mention 
of  their  gate. 

The  boy  drew  a  long  breath,  and  his  eyes  began  to 
twinkle  in  spite  of  his  forlorn  state  as  he  went  on, 
while  the  dog  pricked  up  his  ears  at  mention  of  his 
name :  — 

44  While  I  was  restin'  I  heard  some  one  come  along 
inside,  and  I  peeked,  and  saw  them  little  girls  playin' 
The  vittles  looked  so  nice  I  couldn't  help  wantin'  'em ; 
but  I  didn't  take  nothin',  —  it  was  Sancho,  and  he  took 
the  cake  for  me." 

Bab  and  Betty  gave  a  gasp  and  stared  reproachfully 
at  the  poodle,  who  half  closed  his  eyes  with  a  meek, 
unconscious  look  that  was  very  droll. 

"  And  you  made  him  put  it  back?  "  cried  Bab. 

44  No ;  I  did  it  myself.  Got  over  the  gate  when  you 
was  racin'  after  Sanch,  and  then  clim'  up  on  the  porch 
and  hid,"  said  the  boy  with  a  grin. 

"  And  you  laughed?  "  asked  Bab. 

"Yes." 

44  And  sneezed?"  added  Betty. 

"  Yes." 

44  And  threw  down  the  roses?"  cried  both. 

44  Yes  ;  and  you  liked  'em,  didn't  you?" 

44  Course  we  did!  What  made  you  hide?"  said 
Bab. 

44 1  wasn't  fit  to  be  seen,"  muttered  Ben,  glancing  at 
his  tatters  as  if  he  'd  like  to  dive  out  of  sight  into  the 
dark  coach  again 


22  UNDER   THE  LILACS. 

"How  came  you  here?"  demanded  Mrs.  Moss,  sud- 
denly remembering  her  responsibility. 

"  I  heard  'em  talk  about  a  little  winder  and  a  shed, 
and  when  they'd  gone  I  found  it  and  come  in.  The 
glass  was  broke,  and  I  only  pulled  the  nail  out.  I 
haven't  done  a  mite  of  harm  sleepin'  here  two  nights. 
1  was  so  tuckered  out  I  couldn't  go  on  nohow,  though 
I  tried  a-Sunday." 

44  And  came  back  again?" 

44  Yes,  'm ;  it  was  so  lonesome  in  the  rain,  and  this 
place  seemed  kinder  like  home,  and  I  could  hear  'em 
talkin'  outside,  and  Sanch  he  found  vittles,  and  I  was 
pretty  comfortable." 

"  Well,  I  never !  "  ejaculated  Mrs.  Moss,  whisking  up 
a  corner  of  her  apron  to  wipe  her  eyes,  for  the  thought 
of  the  poor  little  fellow  alone  there  for  two  days  and 
nights  with  no  bed  but  musty  straw,  no  food  but  the 
scraps  a  dog  brought  him,  was  too  much  for  her.  "  Do 
you  know  what  I'm  going  to  do  with  you?"  she  asked, 
trying  to  look  calm  and  cool,  with  a  great  tear  running 
down  her  wholesome  red  cheek,  and  a  smile  trying  to 
break  out  at  the  corners  of  her  lips. 

44  No,  ma'am;  and  I  dunno  as  I  care.  Only  don't 
be  hard  on  Sanch ;  he 's  been  real  good  to  me,  and 
we  're  fond  of  one  another ;  ain't  us,  old  chap  ? "  an- 
swered the  boy,  with  his  arm  around  the  dog's  neck, 
and  an  anxious  look  which  he  had  not  worn  for  him- 
self. 

44  I'm  going  to  take  you  right  home,  and  wash  and 
feed  and  put  you  in  a  good  bed  ;  and  to-morrow,  —  well, 
we'll  see  what '11  happen  then,"  said  Mrs.  Moss,  not 
quite  sure  about  it  herself. 


BEN.  23 

"  You're  very  kind,  ma'am.  I'll  bo  glad  to  work 
for  you.  Ain't  you  got  a  horse  I  can  see  to  ? "  asked 
the  boy,  eagerly. 

"  Nothing  but  hens  and  a  cat." 

Bab  and  Betty  burst  out  laughing  when  their  mothei 
said  that,  and  Ben  gave  a  faint  giggle,  as  if  he  would 
like  to  join  in  if  he  only  had  the  strength  to  do  it.  But 
his  legs  shook  under  him,  and  he  felt  a  queer  dizziness  ; 
so  he  could  only  hold  on  to  Sancho,  and  blink  at  the 
light  like  a  young  owl. 

"  Come  right  along,  child.  Run  on,  girls,  and  put 
the  rest  of  the  broth  to  warming,  and  fill  the  kottle. 
I'll  see  to  the  boy,"  commanded  Mrs.  Moss,  waving 
off  the  children,  and  going  up  to  feel  the  pulse  of  her 
new  charge,  for  it  suddenly  occurred  to  her  that  he 
might  be  sick  and  not  safe  to  take  home. 

The  hand  he  gave  her  was  very  thin,  but  clean  and 
coo],  and  the  black  eyes  were  clear  though  hollow,  for 
the  poor  lad  was  half- starved. 

"I'm  awful  shabby,  but  I  ain't  dirty.  I  had  a 
washin'  in  the  rain  last  night,  and  I've  jest  about 
lived  on  water  lately,"  he  explained,  wondering  why 
flhe  looked  at  him  so  hard. 

"  Put  out  your  tongue." 

He  did  so,  but  took  it  in  again  to  say  quickly,  — 

"  I  ain't  sick,  —  I  'm  only  hungry  ;  for  I  haven't  had 
a  mite  but  what  Sanch  brought,  for  three  days ;  and  I 
always  go  halves,  don't  I,  Sanch?  " 

The  poodle  gave  a  shrill  bark,  and  vibrated  excitedly 
between  the  door  and  his  master  as  if  he  understood 
all  that  was  going  on,  and  recommended  a  speedy  march 
toward  the  promised  food  and  shelter.    Mrs.  Moss  took 


24  UNDER    THE   LILACS 

the  hint,  and  bade  the  boy  follow  her  at  once  and  bring 
his  "  things"  with  him. 

"I  ain't  got  any.  Some  big  fellers  took  away  my 
bundle,  else  I  wouldn't  look  so  bad.  There 's  only  this. 
I  'm  sorry  Sanch  took  it,  and  I  'd  like  to  give  it  back  if 
I  knew  whose  it  was,"  said  Ben,  bringing  the  new  din- 
ner-pail out  from  the  depths  of  the  coach  where  he  had 
gone  to  housekeeping. 

"  That's  soon  done ;  it's  mine,  and  you're  welcome 
to  the  bits  your  queer  dog  ran  off  with.  Come  along, 
I  must  lock  up,"  and  Mrs.  Moss  clanked  her  keys  sug- 
gestively. 

Ben  limped  out,  leaning  on  a  broken  hoe-handle,  for  he 
was  stiff  after  two  days  in  such  damp  lodgings,  as  well 
as  worn  out  with  a  fortnight's  wandering  through  sun 
and  rain.  Sancho  was  in  great  spirits,  evidently  feeling 
that  their  woes  were  over  and  his  foraging  expeditions 
at  an  end,  for  he  frisked  about  his  master  with  yelps 
of  pleasure,  or  made  playful  darts  at  the  ankles  of  his 
benefactress,  which  caused  her  to  cry,  "  Whish  !  "  and 
iC  Scat ! "  and  shake  her  skirts  at  him  as  if  he  were  a 
cat  or  hen. 

A  hot  fire  was  roaring  in  the  stove  under  the  broth- 
skillet  and  tea-kettle,  and  Betty  was  poking  in  more 
wood,  with  a  great  smirch  of  black  on  her  chubby  cheek, 
while  Bab  was  cutting  away  at  the  loaf  as  if  bent  on 
slicing  her  own  fingers  off.  Before  Ben  knew  what  he 
was  about,  he  found  himself  in  the  old  rocking-chair 
devouring  bread  and  butter  as  only  a  hungry  boy  can 
with  Sancho  close  by  gnawing  a  mutton-bone  like  a 
ravenous  wolf  in  sheep's  clothing. 

While  the  new-comers  were  thus  happily  employed, 


BEN.  25 

Mrs.  Moss  beckoned  the  little  girls  out  of  the  room, 
and  gave  them  both  an  errand. 

"  Bab,  you  run  over  to  Mrs.  Barton's,  and  ask  hex 
for  any  old  duds  Billy  don't  want ;  and  Betty,  you  go 
to  the  Cutters,  and  tell  Miss  Clarindy  I'd  like  a  couple 
of  the  shirts  we  made  at  last  sewing  circle.  Any  shoes, 
or  a  hat,  or  socks,  would  come  handy,  for  the  poor  dear 
hasn't  a  whole  thread  on  him." 

Away  went  the  children  full  of  anxiety  to  clothe  their 
beggar ;  and  so  well  did  they  plead  his  cause  with  the 
good  neighbors,  that  Ben  hardly  knew  himself  when  he 
emerged  from  the  back  bedroom  half  an  hour  later, 
clothed  in  Billy  Barton's  faded  flannel  suit,  with  an  un- 
bleached cotton  shirt  out  of  the  Dorcas  basket,  and  a 
pair  of  Milly  Cutter's  old  shoes  on  his  feet. 

Sancho  also  had  been  put  in  better  trim,  for,  after  hit 
master  had  refreshed  himself  with  a  warm  bath,  he  gavf 
his  dog  a  good  scrub  while  Mrs.  Moss  set  a  stitch  here 
and  there  in  the  new  old  clothes  ;  and  Sancho  reappeared 
looking  more  like  the  china  poodle  than  ever,  being  as 
white  as  snow,  his  curls  well  brushed  up,  and  his  tasselly 
tail  waving  proudly  over  his  back. 

Feeling  eminently  respectable  and  comfortable,  the 
wanderers  humbly  presented  themselves,  and  were 
greeted  with  smiles  of  approval  from  the  little  girls  and 
a  hospitable  welcome  from  the  mother,  who  set  them 
near  the  stove  to  dry,  as  both  were  decidedly  damp  aftei 
their  ablutions. 

"  I  declare  I  shouldn't  have  known  you  !  "  exclaimed 
the  good  woman,  surveying  the  boy  with  great  satisfac- 
tion ;  for,  though  still  very  thin  and  tired,  the  lad  had 
a  tidy  look  that  pleased  her,  and  a  lively  way  of  moving 


26  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

about  in  his  clothes,  like  an  eel  in  a  skin  rather  too  big 
for  him.  The  merry  black  eyes  seemed  to  see  every 
thing,  the  voice  had  an  honest  sound,  and  the  sun-burnt 
face  looked  several  years  younger  since  the  unnatural 
despondency  had  gone  out  of  it. 

"  It 's  very  nice,  and  me  and  Sanch  are  lots  obliged, 
•na'am,"  murmured  Ben,  getting  red  and  bashful  under 
the  three  pairs  of  friendly  eyes  fixed  upon  him. 

Bab  and  Betty  were  doing  up  the  tea-things  with 
unusual  despatch,  so  that  they  might  entertain  their 
guest,  and  just  as  Ben  spoke  Bab  dropped  a  cup. 
To  her  great  surprise  no  smash  followed,  for,  bending 
quickly,  the  boy  caught  it  as  it  fell,  and  presented  it  to 
her  on  the  back  of  his  hand  with  a  little  bow. 

"  Gracious  !  how  could  you  do  it?  "  asked  Bab,  look- 
ing as  if  she  thought  there  was  magic  about  it. 

"  That 's  nothing  ;  look  here,"  and,  taking  two  plates, 
Ben  sent  them  spinning  up  into  the  air,  catching  and 
throwing  so  rapidly  that  Bab  and  Betty  stood  with  their 
mouths  open,  as  if  to  swallow  the  plates  should  they 
fall,  while  Mrs.  Moss,  with  her  dish-cloth  suspended, 
watched  the  antics  of  her  crockery  with  a  housewife's 
anxiety. 

' '  That  does  beat  all !  "  was  the  only  exclamation 
3he  had  time  to  make ;  for,  as  if  desirous  of  showing 
his  gratitude  in  the  only  way  he  could,  Ben  took 
several  clothes-pins  from  a  basket  near  by,  sent 
several  saucers  twirling  up,  caught  them  on  the  pins, 
balanced  the  pins  on  chin,  nose,  forehead,  and  went 
walking  about  with  a  new  and  peculiar  sort  of  toad- 
stool ornamenting  his  countenance. 

The    children    were    immensely   tickled,    and    Mrs 


BEN.  27 

Moss  was  so  amused  she  would  have  lent  her  best 
soup- tureen  if  he  had  expressed  a  wish  for  it.  But 
Ben  was  too  tired  to  show  all  his  accomplishments 
At  once,  and  he  soon  stopped,  looking  as  if  he  almost 
regretted  having  betrayed  that  he  possessed  any. 

44 1  guess  you've  been  in  the  juggling  business," 
said  Mrs.  Moss,  with  a  wise  nod,  for  she  saw  the  same 
look  on  his  face  as  when  he  said  his  name  was  Ben 
Brown,  —  the  look  of  one  who  was  not  telling  the  whole 
truth. 

"  Yes,  'm.  I  used  to  help  Senior  Pedro,  the  Wizard 
of  the  World,  and  I  lea  ned  some  of  his  tricks,"  stam- 
mered Ben,  trying  to  seem  innocent. 

4 'Now,  look  here,  boy,  you'd  better  tell  me  the 
whole  story,  and  tell  it  true,  or  I  shall  have  to  send 
you  up  to  Judge  Morris.  I  wouldn't  like  to  do  that, 
for  he  is  a  harsh  sort  of  a  man  ;  so,  if  you  haven't  done 
any  thing  bad,  you  needn't  be  afraid  to  speak  out,  and 
I'll  do  what  I  can  for  you,"  said  Mrs.  Moss,  rather 
sternly,  as  she  went  and  sat  down  in  her  rocking-chair, 
as  if  about  to  open  the  court. 

44 1  haven't  done  any  thing  bad,  and  I  ain't  afraid, 
only  I  don't  want  to  go  back ;  and  if  I  tell,  may  be 
you  '11  let  'em  know  where  I  be,"  said  Ben,  much  dis- 
tressed between  his  longing  to  confide  in  his  new  friend 
and  his  fear  of  his  old  enemies. 

44  If  they  abused  you,  of  course  I  wouldn't.  Tell 
the  truth,  and  I  '11  stand  by  you.  Girls,  you  go  for  the 
milk." 

44  Oh,  Ma,  do  let  us  stay!  We'll  never  tell,  truly, 
truly ! "  cried  Bab  and  Betty,  full  of  dismay  at  being 
sent  off  when  secrets  were  about  to  be  divulged. 


28  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

"  I  don't  mind  'em,"  said  Ben  handsomely. 

"  Very  well,  only  hold  your  tongues.  Now,  boy, 
where  did  you  come  from?"  said  Mrs.  Moss,  as  the 
little  girls  hastily  sat  down  together  on  their  private 
and  particular  bench  opposite  their  mother,  brimming 
with  curiosity  and  beaming  with  satisfaction  at  the 
prospect  before  them 


CHAPTER  IV. 

HIS    STORY. 

*  T  RAN  away  from  a  circus,"  began  Ben,  but  got  no 

J-  further,  for  Bab  and  Betty  gave  a  simultaneous 
bounce  of  delight,  and  both  cried  out  at  once,  — 

"  We  've  been  to  one  !     It  was  splendid !  " 

"  You  wouldn't  think  so  if  you  knew  as  much  about 
it  as  I  do,"  answered  Ben,  with  a  sudden  frown  and 
wriggle,  as  if  he  still  felt  the  smart  of  the  blows  he  had 
received.  "  We  don't  call  it  splendid ;  do  we,  Sancho? " 
he  added,  making  a  queer  noise,  which  caused  the 
poodle  to  growl  and  bang  the  floor  irefully  with  his 
tail,  as  he  lay  close  to  his  master's  feet,  getting  ac- 
quainted with  the  new  shoes  they  wore. 

"  How  came  you  there?"  asked  Mrs.  Moss,  rather 
disturbed  at  the  news. 

"  Why,  my  father  was  the  « Wild  Hunter  of  the 
Plains.'  Didn't  you  ever  see  or  hear  of  him?"  said 
Ben,  as  if  surprised  at  her  ignorance. 

"  Bless  your  heart,  child,  I  haven't  been  to  a  circus 
this  ten  years,  and  I'm  sure  I  don't  remember  what 
or  who  I  saw  then,"  answered  Mrs.  Moss,  amused,  yet 
touched  by  the  son's  evident  admiration  for  his  father. 

"Didn't  you  see  him?"  demanded  Ben,  turning  to 
the  little  girls. 


30  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

"  We  saw  Indians  and  tumbling  men,  and  the  Bound- 
ing Brothers  of  Borneo,  and  a  clown  and  monkeys,  and 
a  little  mite  of  a  pony  with  blue  eyes.  Was  he  any  of 
them  ?  "  answered  Betty,  innocently. 

"Pooh!  he  didn't  belong  to  that  lot.  He  always 
rode  two,  four,  six,  eight  horses  to  oncet,  and  I  used 
to  ride  with  him  till  I  got  too  big.  My  father  was 
A  No.  1,  and  didn't  do  any  thing  but  break  horses  and 
ride  'em,"  said  Ben,  with  as  much  pride  as  if  his  parent 
had  been  a  President. 

"  Is  he  dead? "  asked  Mrs.  Moss. 

"  I  don't  know.  Wish  I  did,"  —  and  poor  Ben  gave 
a  gulp  as  if  something  rose  in  his  throat  and  choked 
him. 

"  Tell  us  all  about  it,  dear,  and  may  be  we  can  find 
out  where  he  is,"  said  Mrs.  Moss  leaning  forward  to 
pat  the  shiny  dark  head  that  was  suddenly  bent  over 
the  dog. 

"Yes,  ma'am,  I  will,  thank  -f"  and  with  an  effort 
the  boy  steadied  his  voice  and  plunged  into  the  middle 
of  his  story. 

"Father  was  always  good  to  me,  and  I  liked  bein' 
with  him  after  granny  died.  I  lived  with  her  till  I  was 
seven;  then  father  took  me,  and  I  was  trained  for  a 
rider.  You  jest  oughter  have  seen  me  when  I  was  a 
tittle  feller  all  in  white  tights,  and  a  gold  belt,  and  pink 
riggin',  standin'  on  father's  shoulder,  or  hangin'  on  to 
old  General's  tail,  and  him  gallopin'  full  pelt ;  or  father 
ridin'  three  horses  with  me  on  his  head  wavin'  flags, 
and  every  one  clappin'  like  fun." 

"Oh,  weren't  you  scared  to  pieces?"  asked  Betty, 
quaking  at  the  mere  thought. 


HIS   STORY.  31 

"  Not  a  bit,     I  liked  it." 

"  So  should  I !  "  cried  Bab  enthusiastically. 

"Then  I  drove  the  four  ponies  in  the  little  chariot, 
when  we  paraded,"  continued  Ben,  '  *  and  I  sat  on  ths 
great  ball  up  top  of  the  grand  car  drawed  by  Hannibal 
and  Nero.  But  I  didn't  hke  that,  'cause  it  was  awful 
high  and  shaky,  and  the  sun  was  hot,  and  the  trees 
slapped  my  face,  and  my  legs  ached  holdin'  on." 

"  What's  hanny  bells  and  neroes?"  demanded 
Betty. 

u  Big  elephants.  Father  never  let  'em  put  me  up 
there,  and  they  didn't  darst  till  he  was  gone ;  then  I 
had  to,  else  they'd  'a'  thrashed  me." 

"Didn't  any  one  take  your  part?"  asked  Mrs. 
Moss. 

"  Yes,  'm,  'most  all  the  ladies  did;  they  were  very 
good  to  me,  'specially  'Melia.  She  vowed  she  wouldn't 
go  on  in  the  Tunnymunt  act  if  they  didn't  stop  knockin' 
me  round  when  I  wouldn't  help  old  Buck  with  the  bears. 
So  they  had  to  stop  it,  'cause  she  led  first  rate,  and 
none  of  the  other  ladies  rode  half  as  well  as  'Melia." 

"  Bears !  oh,  do  tell  about  them  !  "  exclaimed  Bab, 
in  great  excitement,  for  at  the  only  circus  she  had  seen 
the  animals  were  her  delight. 

"  Buck  had  five  of  'em,  cross  old  fellers,  and  he 
showed  'em  off.  I  played  with  'em  once,  jest  for  fun, 
and  he  thought  it  would  make  a  hit  to  have  me  show 
off  instead  of  him.  But  they  had  a  way  of  clawin'  and 
huggin'  that  wasn't  nice,  and  you  couldn't  never  tell 
whether  they  were  good-natured  or  ready  to  bite  your 
head  off.  Buck  was  all  over  scars  where  they'd 
scratched  and  bit  him,  and  I  wasn't  going  to  do  it ;  and 


32  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

I  didn't  have  to,  owin'  to  Miss  St.  John's  standin'  by 
me  like  a  good  one." 

"Who  was  Miss  St.  John?"  asked  Mrs.  Moss, 
rather  confused  by  the  sudden  introduction  of  new 
names  and  people. 

"  Why  she  was  'Melia,  —  Mrs.  Smithers,  the  ring- 
master's wife.  His  name  wasn't  Montgomery  any 
more'n  hers  was  St.  John.  They  all  change  'em  to 
something  fine  on  the  bills,  you  know.  Father  used 
to  be  Senor  Jose  Montebello  ;  and  I  was  Master  Adol- 
phus  Bloomsbury,  after  I  stopped  bein'  a  flyin'  Coopid 
and  a  Infant  Progidy." 

Mrs.  Moss  leaned  back  in  her  chair  to  laugh  at  that, 
greatly  to  the  surprise  of  the  little  girls,  who  were  much 
impressed  with  the  elegance  of  these  high-sounding 
names. 

"  Go  on  with  your  story,  Ben,  and  tell  why  you  ran 
away  and  what  became  of  your  Pa,"  she  said,  composing 
herself  to  listen,  really  interested  in  the  child. 

"Well,  you  see,  father  had  a  quarrel  with  old 
Smithers,  and  went  off  sudden  last  fall,  just  before 
the  tenting  season  was  over.  He  told  me  he  was 
goin'  to  a  great  ridin'  school  in  New  York,  and  when 
he  was  fixed  he  'd  send  for  me.  I  was  to  stay  in  the 
museum  and  help  Pedro  with  the  trick  business.  He 
was  a  nice  man  and  I  liked  him,  and  'Melia  was  goin' 
to  see  to  me,  and  I  didn't  mind  for  awhile.  But  father 
didn't  send  for  me,  and  I  began  to  have  horrid  times. 
If  it  hadn't  been  for  'Melia  and  Sancho  I  would  have 
cut  away  long  before  I  did." 

"  What  did  you  have  to  do  ?  " 

"  Lots  of  things,  for  times  was  dull  and  I  was  smart. 


HIS  STORY  38 

Smithers  said  so,  any  way,  and  I  had  bo  tumble  up 
lively  when  he  gave  the  word.  I  didn't  mind  dorn 
tricks  or  showin'  off  Sancho,  for  father  trained  him,  and 
he  always  did  well  with  me.  But  they  wanted  me  to 
drink  gin  to  keep  me  small,  and  I  wouldn't,  'cause 
father  didn't  like  that  kind  of  thing.  I  used  to  ride 
tip- top,  and  that  just  suited  me  till  I  got  a  fall  and  hurt 
my  back ;  but  I  had  to  go  on  all  the  same,  though  I 
ached  dreadful,  and  used  to  tumble  off,  I  was  so  dizzy 
and  weak." 

"  What  a  brute  that  man  must  have  been!  Why 
didn't  'Melia  put  a  stop  to  it?"  asked  Mrs.  Moss, 
indignantly. 

"  She  died,  ma'am,  and  then  there  was  no  one  left 
but  Sanch  ;  so  I  run  away." 

Then  Ben  fell  to  patting  his  dog  again,  to  hide  the 
tears  he  could  not  keep  from  coming  at  the  thought  of 
the  kind  friend  he  had  lost. 

"  What  did  you  mean  to  do?  " 

"  Find  father ;  but  I  couldn't,  for  he  wasn't  at  the 
ridin'  school,  and  they  told  me  he  had  gone  out  West 
to  buy  mustangs  for  a  man  who  wanted  a  lot.  So  then 
I  was  in  a  fix,  for  I  couldn't  go  to  father,  didn't  know 
jest  where  he  was,  and  I  wouldn't  sneak  back  to 
Smithers  to  be  abused.  Tried  to  make  'em  take  me 
at  the  ridin'  school,  but  they  didn't  want  a  boy,  and  I 
travelled  along  and  tried  to  get  work.  But  I'dha\e 
starved  if  it  hadn't  been  for  Sanch.  I  left  him  tied  up 
when  I  ran  off,  for  fear  they  'd  say  I  stole  him.  He  'a 
a  very  valuable  dog,  ma'am,  the  best  trick  dog  I  ever 
see,  and  they  'd  want  him  back  more  than  they  would 
me.  He  belongs  to  father,  and  1  hated  to  leave  him ; 
2*  c 


k 


S4  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

but  I  did.  I  hooked  it  one  dark  night,  and  nevei 
thought  I  'd  see  him  ag'in.  Next  mornin'  I  was  eatin' 
breakfast  in  a  barn  miles  away,  and  dreadful  lonesome, 
when  he  came  tearin'  in,  all  mud  and  wet,  with  a  great 
piece  of  rope  draggin'.  He'd  gnawed  it  and  come 
after  me,  and  wouldn't  go  back  or  be  lost ;  and  I  '11 
never  leave  him  again,  will  I,  dear  old  feller?" 

Sancho  had  listened  to  this  portion  of  the  tale  with 
intense  interest,  and  when  Ben  spoke  to  him  he  stood 
straight  up,  put  both  paws  on  the  boy's  shoulders, 
licked  his  face  with  a  world  of  dumb  affection  in  his 
yellow  eyes,  and  gave  a  little  whine  which  said  as 
plainly  as  words,  — 

"Cheer  up,  little  master;  fathers  may  vanish  and 
friends  die,  but  I  never  will  desert  you." 

Ben  hugged  him  close  and  smiled  over  his  curly, 
white  head  at  the  little  girls,  who  clapped  their  hands 
at  the  pleasing  tableau,  and  then  went  to  pat  and  fon- 
dle the  good  creature,  assuring  him  that  they  entirely 
forgave  the  theft  of  the  cake  and  the  new  dinner-pail. 
Inspired  b}r  these  endearments  and  certain  private 
Bignals  given  by  Ben,  Sancho  suddenly  burst  away  to 
perform  all  his  best  antics  with  unusual  grace  and 
dexterity. 

Bab  and  Betty  danced  about  the  room  with  rapture, 
while  Mrs.  Moss  declared  she  was  almost  afraid  to  have 
such  a  wonderfully  intelligent  animal  in  the  house 
Praises  of  his  dog  pleased  Ben  more  than  praises  of 
himself,  and  when  the  confusion  had  subsided  he  en- 
tertained his  audience  with  a  lively  account  of  Sancho's 
cleverness,  fidelity,  and  the  various  adventures  in  which 
he  had  nobly  borne  his  part. 


HIS  STORY.  35 

While  he  talked,  Mrs.  Moss  was  making  up  her  mind 
about  him,  and  when  he  came  to  an  end  of  his  dog's 
perfections,  she  said,  gravely,  — 

44  If  I  can  find  something  for  you  to  do,  would  you 
like  to  stay  here  awhile  ?  " 

"Oh,  yes,  ma'am,  I'd  be  glad  to!"  answered  Ben, 
eagerly ;  for  the  place  seemed  home-like  already,  and 
the  good  woman  almost  as  motherly  as  the  departed 
Mrs.  Smithers. 

"Well,  I'll  step  over  to  the  Squire's  to-morrow  to 
see  what  he  says.  Shouldn't  wonder  if  he  'd  take  you 
for  a  chore-boy,  if  you  are  as  smart  as  you  say.  He 
always  has  one  in  the  summer,  and  I  haven't  seen  any 
round  yet.     Can  you  drive  cows  ?  " 

"  Hope  so ;  "  and  Ben  gave  a  shrug,  as  if  it  was  a 
very  unnecessary  question  to  put  to  a  person  who  had 
driven  four  calico  ponies  in  a  gilded  chariot. 

"  It  mayn't  be  as  lively  as  riding  elephants  and  play- 
ing with  bears,  but  it  is  respectable  ;  and  I  guess  you'll 
be  happier  switching  Brindle  and  Buttercup  than  being 
switched  yourself,"  said  Mrs.  Moss,  shaking  her  head 
at  him  with  a  smile. 

"  I  guess  I  will,  ma'am,"  answered  Ben,  with  sudden 
meekness,  remembering  the  trials  from  which  he  had 
escaped. 

Very  soon  after  this,  he  was  sent  off  for  a  good  night's 
sleep  in  the  back  bedroom,  with  Sancho  to  watch  over 
him.  But  both  found  it  difficult  to  slumber  till  the 
racket  overhead  subsided ;  for  Bab  insisted  on  playing 
she  was  a  bear  and  devouring  poor  Betty  in  spite  of 
her  wails,  till  their  mother  came  up  and  put  an  end  to 
it  by  threatening  to  send  Ben  and  his  dog  away  in  the 


36  UNDER   THE  LILACS. 

morning,  if  the  girls  "  didn't  behave  and  be  as  still  as 
mice." 

This  they  solemnly  promised ;  and  they  were  soon 
dreaming  of  gilded  cars  and  mouldy  coaches,  run- 
away boys  and  dinner-pails,  dancing  dogs  and  twirling 
teacups. 


CHAPTER   V. 

BEN  GETS  A  PLACE. 

WHEN  Ben  awoke  next  morning,  he  looked  about 
him  for  a  moment  half  bewildered,  because 
there  was  neither  a  canvas  tent,  a  barn  roof,  nor  the 
blue  sky  above  him,  but  a  neat  white  ceiling,  where 
several  flies  buzzed  sociably  together,  while  from  with- 
out came,  not  the  tramping  of  horses,  the  twitter  of 
swallows,  or  the  chirp  of  early  birds,  but  the  comfort- 
able cackle  of  hens  and  the  sound  of  two  little  voices 
chanting  the  multiplication  table. 

Sancho  sat  at  the  open  window  watching  the  old  cat 
wash  her  face,  and  trying  to  imitate  her  with  his  great 
ruffled  paw,  so  awkwardly  that  Ben  laughed  ;  and  Sanch, 
to  hide  his  confusion  at  being  caught,  made  one  bound 
from  chair  to  bed,  and  licked  his  master's  face  so  ener 
getically  that  the  boy  dived  under  the  bedclothes  to 
escape  from  the  rough  tongue. 

A  rap  on  the  floor  from  below  made  both  jump  up, 
and  in  ten  minutes  a  shiny-faced  lad  and  a  lively  dog 
went  racing  downstairs,  —  one  to  say,  "  Good-mornin', 
ma'am,"  the  other  to  wag  his  tail  faster  than  ever  tail 
wagged  before,  for  ham  frizzled  on  the  stove,  and  Sancho 
was  fond  of  it. 

"Did  you  rest  well?"  asked  Mrs.  Moss,  nodding  at 
him,  fork  in  hand. 


38  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

"Guess  I  did!  Never  saw  such  a  bed.  I'm  used 
to  hay  and  a  horse-blanket,  and  lately  nothin'  but  sky 
for  a  cover  and  grass  for  my  feather-bed,"  laughed  Ben, 
grateful  for  present  comforts  and  making  light  of  past 
hardships. 

<;  Clean,  sweet  corn-husks  ain't  bad  for  young  bones, 
even  if  they  haven't  got  more  flesh  on  them  than  yours 
have,"  answered  Mrs.  Moss,  giving  the  smooth  head  a 
motherly  stroke  as  she  went  by. 

"  Fat  ain't  allowed  in  our  profession,  ma'am.  The 
thinner  the  better  for  tight-ropes  and  tumblin' ;  likewise 
bareback  ridin'  and  spry  jugglin'.  Muscle 's  the  thing, 
and  there  you  are." 

Ben  stretched  out  a  wiry  little  arm  with  a  clenched 
fist  at  the  end  of  it,  as  if  he  were  a  young  Hercules, 
ready  to  play  ball  with  the  stove  if  she  gave  him  leave. 
Glad  to  see  him  in  such  good  spirits,  she  pointed  to  the 
well  outside,  saying  pleasantly,  — 

"Well,  then,  just  try  your  muscle  by  bringing  in 
some  fresh  water." 

Ben  caught  up  a  pail  and  ran  off,  ready  to  be  useful ; 
but,  while  he  waited  for  the  bucket  to  fill  down  among 
the  mossy  stones,  he  looked  about  him,  well  pleased 
with  all  he  saw,  —  the  small  brown  house  with  a  pretty 
curl  of  smoke  rising  from  its  chimney,  the  little  sisters 
sitting  in  the  sunshine,  green  hills  and  newly-planted 
fields  far  and  near,  a  brook  dancing  through  the  orchard, 
birds  s:nging  in  the  elm  avenue,  and  all  the  world  as 
fresh  and  lovely  as  early  summer  could  make  it. 

"  Don't  you  think  it's  pretty  nice  here?"  asked  Bab, 
as  his  eye  came  back  to  them  after  a  long  look,  which 
seemed  to  take  in  every  thing,  brightening  as  it  roved. 


BEN   GETS  A   PLACE.  39 

44  Just  the  nicest  place  that  ever  was.  Only  needs  a 
horse  round  somewhere  to  be  complete,"  answered  Ben, 
as  the  long  well-sweep  came  up  with  a  dripping  bucket 
at  one  end,  an  old  grindstone  at  the  other. 

"  The  Judge  has  three,  but  he's  so  fussy  about  them 
he  won't  even  let  us  pull  a  few  hairs  out  of  old  Major's 
tail  to  make  rings  of,"  said  Betty,  shutting  her  arith- 
metic, with  an  injured  expression. 

44  Mike  lets  me  ride  the  white  one  to  water  when  the 
Judge  isn't  round.  It 's  such  fun  to  go  jouncing  down 
the  lane  and  back.  I  do  love  horses  !  "  cried  Bab,  bob- 
bing up  and  down  on  the  blue  bench  to  imitate  the 
motion  of  white  Jenny. 

44 1  guess  you  are  a  plucky  sort  of  a  girl,"  and  Ben 
gave  her  an  approving  look  as  he  went  by,  taking  care 
to  slop  a  little  water  on  Mrs.  Puss,  who  stood  curling 
her  whiskers  and  humping  up  her  back  at  Sancho. 

44  Come  to  breakfast!"  called  Mrs.  Moss;  and  for 
about  twenty  minutes  little  was  said,  as  mush  and  milk 
vanished  in  a  way  that  would  have  astonished  even  Jack 
the  Giant-killer  with  his  leather  bag. 

44  Now,  girls,  fly  round  and  get  your  chores  done  up  ; 
Ben,  you  go  chop  me  some  kindlings ;  and  I  '11  make 
things  tidv.  Then  we  can  all  start  off  at  once."  said 
Mrs.  Moss,  as  the  last  mouthful  vanished,  and  Sancho 
licked  his  lips  over  the  savory  scraps  that  fell  to  hie 
share. 

Ben  fell  to  chopping  so  vigorously  that  chips  flew 
wildly  all  about  the  shed ;  Bab  rattled  the  cups  into  hei 
dish-pan  with  dangerous  haste,  and  Betty  raised  a 
cloud  of  dust  44  sweeping-up  ;  "  while  mother  seemed  to 
be  everywhere  at  once.     Even  Sanch,  feeling  that  his 


40  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

fate  was  at  stake,  endeavored  to  help  in  his  own  some- 
what erratic  way,  —  now  frisking  about  Ben  at  the  risk 
of  getting  his  tail  chopped  off,  then  trotting  away  to 
poke  his  inquisitive  nose  into  every  closet  and  room 
whither  he  followed  Mrs.  Moss  in  her  "flying  round" 
evolutions ;  next  dragging  off  the  mat  so  Betty  could 
brush  the  door-steps,  or  inspecting  Bab's  dish-washing 
by  standing  on  his  hind-legs  to  survey  the  table  with 
a  critical  air.  When  they  drove  him  out  he  was  not 
the  least  offended,  but  gayly  barked  Puss  up  a  tree, 
chased  all  the  hens  over  the  fence,  and  carefully  interred 
an  old  shoe  in  the  garden,  where  the  remains  of  the 
mutton-bone  were  already  buried. 

By  the  time  the  others  were  ready  he  had  worked  off 
his  superfluous  spirits,  and  trotted  behind  the  party  like 
a  well-behaved  dog  accustomed  to  go  out  walking  with 
ladies.  At  the  cross-roads  they  separated,  the  little 
girls  running  on  to  school,  while  Mrs.  Moss  and  Ben 
went  up  to  the  Squire's  big  house  on  the  hill. 

"  Don't  you  be  scared,  child.  I'll  make  it  all  right 
about  your  running  away  ;  and  if  the  Squire  gives  you 
a  job,  just  thank  him  for  it,  and  do  your  best  to  be 
steady  and  industrious  ;  then  jou  '11  get  on,  I  haven't  a 
doubt,"  she  whispered,  ringing  the  bell  at  a  side-door, 
on  which  the  word  "  Morris"  shone  in  bright  letters. 

"  Come  in  !  "  called  a  gruff  voice  ;  and,  feeling  very 
much  as  if  he  were  going  to  have  a  tooth  out,  Ben 
meekly  followed  the  good  woman,  who  put  on  her 
pleasantest  smile,  anxious  to  make  the  best  possible 
impression. 

A  white-headed  old  gentleman  sat  reading  a  paper, 
and  peered  over  his  glasses  at  the  new-comers  with  a 


BEN    GETS  A   PLACE.  4l 

pair  of  sharp  eyes,  saying  in  a  testy  tone,  which  would 
have  rather  daunted  any  one  who  did  not  know  what  a 
kind  heart  he  had  under  his  capacious  waistcoat,  — 

"Good-morning,  ma'am.  What's  the  matter  now? 
Toung  tramp  been  stealing  your  chickens  ?  " 

"Oh,  dear  no,  sir!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Moss,  as  if 
mocked  at  the  idea.  Then,  in  a  few  words,  she  told  Ben's 
.story,  unconsciously  making  his  wrongs  and  destitution 
so  pathetic  by  her  looks  and  tones,  that  the  Squire  could 
not  help  being  interested,  and  even  Ben  pitied  himself 
as  if  he  were  somebody  else. 

"Now,  then,  boy,  what  can  you  do?"  asked  the  old 
gentleman,  with  an  approving  nod  to  Mrs.  Moss  as  she 
finished,  and  such  a  keen  glance  from  under  his  bushy 
brows  that  Ben  felt  as  if  he  was  perfectly  transparent. 

"  'Most  any  thing,  sir,  to  get  my  livin'." 

"  Can  you  weed?" 

"  Never  did,  but  I  can  learn,  sir." 

"  Pull  up  all  the  beets  and  leave  the  pigweed,  hey? 
Can  you  pick  strawberries?" 

"  Never  tried  any  thing  but  eatin'  'em,  sir." 

"  Not  likely  to  forget  that  part  of  the  job.  Can  you 
ride  a  horse  to  plow  ?  " 

"Guess  I  could,  sir!"  —  and  Ben's  eyes  began  to 
sparkle,  for  he  dearly  loved  the  noble  animals  who  had 
been  his  dearest  friends  lately. 

"No  antics  allowed.  My  horse  is  a  fine  fellow,  and 
i  'm  very  particular  about  him." 

The  Squire  spoke  soberly,  but  there  was  a  twinkle  in 
his  eye,  and  Mrs.  Moss  tried  not  to  smile  ;  for  the  Squire's 
horse  was  a  joke  all  over  the  town,  being  about  twenty 
years  old,  and  having  a  peculiar  gait  of  his  own,  lifting 


42  UNDER   THE  LILACS. 

his  fore -feet  very  high,  with  a  great  show  of  speed, 
though  never  going  out  of  a  jog-trot.  The  boys 
used  to  say  he  galloped  before  and  walked  behind, 
and  made  all  sorts  of  fun  of  the  big,  Roman-nosed 
beast,  who  allowed  no  liberties  to  be  taken  with 
him. 

"I'm  too  fond  of  horses  to  hurt  'em,  sir.  As  for 
ndin',  I  ain't  afraid  of  any  thing  on  four  legs.  The 
King  of  Morocco  used  to  kick  and  bite  like  fun,  but  I 
could  manage  him  first-rate." 

"  Then  you'd  be  able  to  drive  cows  to  pasture,  per- 
haps?" 

"I've  drove  elephants  and  camels,  ostriches  and 
grizzly  bears,  and  mules,  and  six  yellow  ponies  all  to 
oncet.  May  be  I  could  manage  cows  if  I  tried  hard," 
answered  Ben,  endeavoring  to  be  meek  and  respectful 
when  scorn  filled  his  soul  at  the  idea  of  not  being  able 
to  drive  a  cow. 

The  Squire  liked  him  all  the  better  for  the  droll 
mixture  of  indignation  and  amusement  betrayed  by 
the  fire  in  his  eyes  and  the  sly  smile  round  his  lips  5 
and  being  rather  tickled  by  Ben's  list  of  animals,  he 
answered,  gravely, — 

"We  don't  raise  elephants  and  camels  much  round 
here.  Bears  used  to  be  plenty,  but  folks  got  tired  of 
them.  Mules  are  numerous,  but  we  have  the  two- 
legged  kind ;  and  as  a  general  thing  prefer  Shanghae 
fowls  to  ostriches." 

He  got  no  farther,  for  Ben  laughed  out  so  infec- 
tiously that  both  the  others  joined  him ;  and  somehow 
that  jolly  laugh  seemed  to  settle  matters  better  than 
*»rords.     As  they  stopped,  the  Squire  tapped  on  the 


BEN  GETS  A   PLACE.  43 

window  behind  him,  saying,  with  an  attempt  at  the 
former  gruffness,  — 

44  We '11  try  you  on  cows  awhile.  My  man  will 
show  you  where  to  drive  them,  and  give  you  some 
odd  jobs  through  the  day.  I  '11  see  what  you  are  good 
for,  and  send  you  word  to-night,  Mrs.  Moss.  The 
boy  can  sleep  at  your  house,  can't  he?  " 

"  Yes,  indeed,  sir.  He  can  go  on  doing  it,  and 
come  up  to  his  work  just  as  well  as  not.  I  can  see 
to  him  then,  and  he  won't  be  a  care  to  any  one,"  said 
Mrs.  Moss,  heartily. 

"I'll  make  inquiries  concerning  your  father,  boy, 
meantime  mind  what  you  are  about,  and  have  a  good 
report  to  give  when  he  comes  for  you,"  returned  the 
Squire,  with  a  warning  wag  of  a  stern  fore-finger. 

44  Thanky*,  sir.  I  will,  sir.  Father  '11  come  just 
as  soon  as  he  can,  if  he  isn't  sick  or  lost,"  murmured 
Ben,  inwardly  thanking  his  stars  that  he  had  not  done 
any  thing  to  make  him  quake  before  that  awful  finger, 
and  resolving  that  he  never  would. 

Here  a  red-headed  Irishman  came  to  the  door,  and 
stood  eying  the  boy  with  small  favor  while  the  Squire 
gave  his  orders. 

"  Pat,  this  lad  wants  work.  He's  to  take  the  cows 
and  go  for  them.  Give  him  any  light  jobs  you  have, 
and  let  me  know  if  he 's  good  for  any  thing." 

44  Yis,  your  honor.  Come  out  o'  this,  b'y,  till  I  shew 
ye  the  bastes,"  responded  Pat ;  and,  with  a  hasty  good- 
by  to  Mrs.  Moss,  Ben  followed  his  new  leader,  sorely 
tempted  to  play  some  naughty  trick  upon  him  in  return 
for  his  ungracious  reception. 

But  in  a  moment  he   forgot  that  Pat   existed,    for 


44  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

in  the  yard  stood  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  so  named 
in  honor  of  his  Roman  nose.  If  Ben  had  known  any 
thing  about  Shakspeare,  he  would  have  cried,  "A 
horse,  a  horse  !  —  my  kingdom  for  a  horse !  "  for  the 
feeling  was  in  his  heart,  and  he  ran  up  to  the  stately 
animal  without  a  fear.  Duke  put  back  his  ears  and 
swished  his  tail  as  if  displeased  for  a  moment;  but 
Ben  looked  straight  in  his  ej^es,  gave  a  scientific  stroke 
to  the  iron-gray  nose,  and  uttered  a  chirrup  which 
made  the  ears  prick  up  as  if  recognizing  a  familiar 
sound. 

"He'll  nip  ye,  if  ye  go  botherin'  that  way.  L'ave 
him  alone,  and  attind  to  the  cattle  as  his  honor  tould 
ye,"  commanded  Pat,  who  made  a  great  show  of  respect 
toward  Duke  in-  public,  and  kicked  him  brutally  in 
private. 

"I  ain't  afraid!  You  won't  hurt  me,  will  you,  old 
feller?  See  there  now  !  — he  knows  I'm  a  friend,  and 
takes  to  me  right  off,"  said  Ben,  with  an  arm  around 
Duke's  neck,  and  his  own  cheek  confidingly  laid  against 
the  animal's ;  for  the  intelligent  eyes  spoke  to  him  as 
plainly  as  the  little  whinny  which  he  understood  and 
accepted  as  a  welcome. 

The  Squire  saw  it  all  from  the  open  window,  and 
suspecting  from  Pat's  face  that  trouble  was  brewing, 
called  out,  — 

"  Let  the  lad  harness  Duke,  if  he  can.  I'm  going 
out  directly,  and  he  may  as  well  try  that  as  any  thing." 

Ben  was  delighted,  and  proved  himself  so  brisk  and 
handy  that  the  roomy  chaise  stood  at  the  door  in  a 
surprisingly  short  time,  with  a  smiling  little  ostler  at 
Duke's  head  when  the  Squire  came  out. 


BEN  GETS  A    PLACE.  45 

His  affection  for  the  horse  pleased  the  old  gentleman, 
and  his  neat  way  of  harnessing  suited  as  well ;  but 
Ben  got  no  praise,  except  a  nod  and  a  brief  "  All  right, 
boy,"  as  the  equipage  went  creaking  and  jogging  away. 

Four  sleek  cows  filed  out  of  the  barnyard  when  Pat 
opened  the  gate,  and  Ben  drove  them  down  the  road 
to  a  distant  pasture  where  the  early  grass  awaited  theii 
eager  cropping.  By  the  school  they  went,  and  the  boy 
looked  pityingly  at  the  black,  brown,  and  yellow  heads 
bobbing  past  the  windows  as  a  class  went  up  to  recite  ; 
for  it  seemed  a  hard  thing  to  the  liberty-loving  lad  to 
be  shut  up  there  so  many  hours  on  a  morning  like  that. 

But  a  little  breeze  that  was  playing  truant  round  the 
steps  did  Ben  a  service  without  knowing  it,  for  a 
sudden  puff  blew  a  torn  leaf  to  his  feet,  and  seeing  a 
picture  he  took  it  up.  It  evidently  had  fallen  from 
some  ill-used  history,  for  the  picture  showed  some  queer 
ships  at  anchor,  some  oddly  dressed  men  just  landing, 
and  a  crowd  of  Indians  dancing  about  on  the  shore. 
Ben  spelt  out  all  he  could  about  these  interesting 
personages,  but  could  not  discover  what  it  meant, 
because  ink  evidently  had  deluged  the  page,  to  the 
new  reader's  great  disappointment. 

"I'll  ask  the  girls;  may  be  they  will  know,"  said 
Ben  to  himself  as,  after  looking  vainly  for  more  stray 
leaves,  he  trudged  on,  enjoying  the  bobolink's  song 
the  warm  sunshine,  and  a  comfortable  sense  of  friendli- 
ness and  safety,  which  soon  set  him  to  whistling  as 
gayly  as  any  blackbird  in  the  meadow. 


CHAPTER    VI. 

A    CIRCULATING  LIBRARY. 

AFTER  supper  that  night,  Bab  and  Betty  sat  in  the 
old  porch  playing  with  Josephus  and  Belinda, 
and  discussing  the  events  of  the  day ;  for  the  appear- 
ance of  the  strange  boy  and  his  dog  had  been  a  most 
exciting  occurrence  in  their  quiet  lives.  They  had  seen 
nothing  of  him  since  morning,  as  he  took  his  meals 
at  the  Squire's,  and  was  at  work  with  Pat  in  a  distant 
fi«ild  when  the  children  passed.  Sancho  had  stuck 
closely  to  his  master,  evidently  rather  bewildered  by 
the  new  order  of  things,  and  bound  to  see  that  no  harm 
happened  to  Ben. 

"I  wish  they'd  come.  It's  sundown,  and  I  heard 
the  cows  mooing,  so  I  know  they  have  gone  home," 
said  Betty,  impatiently;  for  she  regarded  the  new- 
comer in  the  light  of  an  entertaining  book,  and  wished 
to  read  on  as  fast  as  possible. 

"I'm  going  to  learn  the  signs  he  makes  when  he 
wants  Sancho  to  dance ;  then  we  can  have  fun  with 
him  whenever  we  like.  He  's  the  dearest  dog  I  ever 
saw !  "  answered  Bab,  who  was  fonder  of  animals  than 
her  sister. 

" Ma  said  —  Ow,  what's  that?"  cried  Betty  with  a 
start,  as  something  bumped  against  the  gate  outside; 


A    CIRCULATING  LIBRARY.  47 

and  in  a  moment  Ben's  head  peeped  over  the  top  as  he 
swung  himself  up  to  the  iron  arch,  in  the  middle  of 
which  was  the  empty  lantern  frame. 

"  Please  to  locate,  gentlemen ;  please  to  locate. 
The  performance  is  about  to  begin  with  the  great 
Flyin'  Coopid  act,  in  which  Master  Bloomsbury  has 
appeared  before  the  crowned  heads  of  Europe.  Pro- 
nounced by  all  beholders  the  most  remarkable  youthful 
progidy  agoin'.     Hooray !  here  we  are  !  " 

Having  rattled  off  the  familiar  speech  in  Mr.  Smithers's 
elegant  manner,  Ben  began  to  cut  up  such  capers  that 
even  a  party  of  dignified  hens,  going  down  the  avenue 
to  bed,  paused  to  look  on  with  clucks  of  astonishment, 
evidently  fancying  that  salt  had  set  him  to  fluttering 
and  tumbling  as  it  did  them.  Never  had  the  old  gate 
beheld  such  antics,  though  it  had  seen  gay  doings  in 
its  time ;  for  of  all  the  boys  who  had  climbed  over  it, 
not  one  had  ever  stood  on  his  head  upon  each  of  the 
big  balls  which  ornamented  the  posts,  hung  by  his 
heels  from  the  arch,  gone  round  and  round  like  a  wheel 
with  the  bar  for  an  axis,  played  a  tattoo  with  his  toes 
while  holding  on  by  his  chin,  walked  about  the  wall  on 
his  hands,  or  closed  the  entertainment  by  festooning 
himself  in  an  airy  posture  over  the  side  of  the  lantern 
frame,  and  kissing  his  hand  to  the  audience  as  a  well- 
bred  Cupid  is  supposed  to  do  on  making  his  bow. 

The  little  girls  clapped  and  stamped  enthusiastically, 
while  Sancho,  who  had  been  calmly  surveying  the  show, 
barked  his  approval  as  he  leaped  up  to  snap  at  Ben's 
feet. 

"  Come  down  and  tell  what  you  did  up  at  the 
Squire's.      Was   he   cross?     Did   you   have   to    worb 


48  UNDER    THE  LILAC  b. 

hard?  Do  you  like  it?"  asked  Bab,  when  tho  noise 
had  subsided. 

"It's  cooler  up  here,"  answered  Ben,  composing 
himself  in  the  frame,  and  fanning  his  hot  face  with  a 
green  spray  broken  from  the  tall  bushes  rustling  odor- 
ously  all  about  him.  "I  did  all  sorts  of  jobs.  The 
ild  gentleman  wasn't  cross ;  he  gave  me  a  dime,  and 
I  like  him  first-rate.  But  I  just  hate  '  Carrots ; '  he 
swears  at  a  feller,  and  fired  a  stick  of  wood  at  me. 
Guess  I  '11  pay  him  off  when  I  get  a  chance." 

Fumbling  in  his  pocket  to  show  the  bright  dime,  he 
found  the  torn  page,  and  remembered  the  thirst  for 
information  which  had  seized  him  in  the  morning. 

"  Look  here,  tell  me  about  this,  will  you?  What  are 
these  chaps  up  to?  The  ink  has  spoilt  all  but  the 
picture  and  this  bit  of  reading.  I  want  to  know  what 
it  means.     Take  it  to  'em,  Sanch." 

The  dog  caught  the  leaf  as  it  fluttered  to  the  ground, 
and  carrying  it  carefully  in  his  mouth,  deposited  it  at 
the  feet  of  the  little  girls,  seating  himself  before  them 
with  an  air  of  deep  interest.  Bab  and  Betty  picked  it 
up  and  read  it  aloud  in  unison,  while  Ben  leaned  from 
his  perch  to  listen  and  learn. 

"  '  When  day  dawned,  land  was  visible.  A  pleasant 
land  it  was.  There  were  gay  flowers,  and  tall  trees 
with  leaves  and  fruit,  such  as  they  had  never  seen 
before.  On  the  shore  were  unclad  copper-colored 
men,  gazing  with  wonder  at  the  Spanish  ships.  They 
took  them  for  great  birds,  the  white  sails  for  their 
wings,  and  the  Spaniards  for  superior  beings  brought 
down  from  heaven  on  their  backs.' " 

"  Why,    that's    Columbus    finding    San    Salvador. 


A    CIRCULATING  LIBRARY.  49 

Don't  you  know  about  him?"  demanded  Bab,  as  if 
she  were  one  of  the  "  superior  beings,"  and  intimately 
acquainted  with  the  immortal  Christopher. 

"No,  I  don't.  Who  was  he  any  way?  I  s'pose 
that 's  him  paddlin'  ahead ;  but  which  of  the  Injuns  is 
Sam  Salvindoor?"  asked  Ben,  rather  ashamed  of  his 
ignorance,  but  bent  on  finding  out  now  he  had  begun. 

"  My  gracious  !  twelve  years  old  and  not  know  youi 
Quackenbos  !  "  laughed  Bab,  much  amused,  but  rather 
glad  to  find  that  she  could  teach  the  "  whirligig 
boy "  something,  for  she  considered  him  a  remarkable 
creature. 

"I  don't  care  a  bit  for  your  quackin'  boss,  whoevei 
he  is.  Tell  about  this  fine  feller  with  the  ships  ;  I  like 
him"  persisted  Ben. 

So  Bab,  with  frequent  interruptions  and  hints  from 
Betty,  told  the  wonderful  tale  in  a  simple  way,  which 
made  it  easy  to  understand ;  for  she  liked  history,  and 
had  a  lively  tongue  of  her  own. 

"  I'd  like  to  read  some  more.  Would  my  ten  cents 
buy  a  book  ?  "  asked  Ben,  anxious  to  learn  a  little  since 
Bab  laughed  at  him. 

"  No,  indeed!  I'll  lend  you  mine  when  I'm  not 
using  it,  and  tell  you  all  about  it,"  promised  Bab  ;  for- 
getting that  she  did  not  know  "  all  about  it"  herself 
yet. 

'■'  I  don't  have  any  time  only  evenings,  and  then  may 
be  you  '11  want  it,"  begun  Ben,  in  whom  the  inky  page 
had  roused  a  strong  curiosity. 

"  I  do  get  my  history  in  the  evening,  but  you  could 
have  it  mornings  before  school." 

"  I  shall  have  to  go  off  early,  so  there  won't  "be  any 


60  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

chance.  Yes,  there  will,  —  I'll  tell  you  how  to  do  it. 
Let  me  read  while  I  drive  up  the  cows.  Squire  likes 
'em  to  eat  slow  along  the  road,  so's  to  keep  the  grass 
short  and  save  mowin'.  Pat  said  so,  and  I  could  do 
history  instead  of  loafin'  round  !  "  cried  Ben  full  of  this 
bright  idea. 

"  How  will  I  get  my  book  back  in  time  to  recite?  " 
asked  Bab,  prudently. 

"Oh,  I'll  leave  it  on  the  window-sill,  or  put  it  inside 
the  door  as  I  go  back.  I'll  be  real  careful,  and  just  as 
soon  as  I  earn  enough,  I  '11  buy  you  a  new  one  and  take 
the  old  one.     Will  }Tou?  " 

"Yes;  but  I'll  tell  you  a  nicer  way  to  do.  Don't 
put  the  book  on  the  window,  'cause  teacher  will  see 
you ;  or  inside  the  door,  'cause  some  one  may  steal  it. 
You  put  it  in  my  cubby-house,  right  at  the  corner  of 
the  wall  nearest  the  big  maple.  You  '11  find  a  cunning 
place  between  the  roots  that  stick  up  under  the  flat 
stone.  That 's  my  closet,  and  I  keep  things  there.  It 's 
the  best  cubby  of  all,  and  we  take  turns  to  have 
it." 

"I'll  find  it,  and  that'll  be  a  first-rate  place,"  said 
Ben,  much  gratified. 

"  I  could  put  my  reading-book  in  sometimes,  if  you'd 
like  it.  There  's  lots  of  pretty  stories  in  it  and  pictures," 
proposed  Betty,  rather  timidly ;  for  she  wanted  to  share 
the  benevolent  project,  but  had  little  to  offer,  not  being 
as  good  a  scholar  as  bright  Bab. 

"I'd  like  a  'rithmetic  better.  I  read  tip-top,  but  I 
ain't  much  on  'rithmetic ;  so,  if  you  can  spare  yours, 
I  might  take  a  look  at  it.  Now  I'm  goin'  to  earn 
wages,  I  ought  to  know  about  addin'  'em  up,  and  so  on," 


A    CIRCULATING  LIBRARY.  51 

said  Ben,  with  the  air  of  a  Vanderbilt  oppressed  with 
the  care  of  millions. 

"I'll  teach  you  that.  Betty  doesn't  know  much 
about  sums.  But  she  spells  splendidly,  and  is  always 
at  the  head  of  her  class.  Teacher  is  real  proud  of  her, 
'cause  she  never  misses,  and  spells  hard,  fussy  words, 
like  chi-rog-ra-phy  and  bron-chi-tis  as  easy  as  any  thing." 

Bab  quite  beamed  with  sisterly  pride,  and  Betty 
smoothed  down  her  apron  with  modest  satisfaction, 
fbr  Bab  seldom  praised  her,  and  she  liked  it  very  much. 

"  I  never  went  to  school,  so  that's  the  reason  I  ain't 
smart.  I  can  write,  though,  better 'n  some  of  the  boys 
up  at  school.  I  saw  lots  of  names  on  the  shed  door. 
See  here,  now,"  —  and  scrambling  down,  Ben  pulled  out 
a  cherished  bit  of  chalk,  and  flourished  off  ten  letters  of 
the  alphabet,  one  on  each  of  the  dark  stone  slabs  that 
paved  the  walk. 

"  Those  are  beautiful !  I  can't  make  such  curly  ones. 
Who  taught  you  to  do  it?"  asked  Bab,  as  she  and 
Betty  walked  up  and  down  admiring  them. 

"  Horse  blankets,"  answered  Ben,  soberly. 

"  What ! "  cried  both  girls,  stopping  to  stare. 

"  Our  horses  all  had  their  names  on  their  blankets, 
and  I  used  to  copy  'em.  The  wagons  had  signs,  and  I 
learned  to  read  that  way  after  father  taught  me  my 
letters  off  the  red  and  yellow  posters.  First  word  I 
knew  was  lion,  'cause  I  was  always  goin'  to  see  old 
Jubal  in  his  cage.  Father  was  real  proud  when  I  read 
it  right  off.     I  can  draw  one,  too." 

Ben  proceeded  to  depict  an  animal  intended  to  repre- 
sent his  lost  friend  ;  but  Jubal  would  not  have  recognized 
his  portrait,  since  it  looked  much  more  like  Sancho  than 


52  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

the  king  of  the  forest.  The  children  admired  it  im- 
mensely, however,  and  Ben  gave  them  a  lesson  in 
natural  history  which  was  so  interesting  that  it  kept 
them  busy  and  happy  till  bedtime  ;  for  the  boy  described 
what  he  had  seen  in  such  lively  language,  and  illus- 
trated in  such  a  droll  way,  it  was  no  wonder  they  were 
charmed. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

NEW  FRIENDS    TROT   IN. 

NEXT  day  Ben  ran  off  to  his  work  with  Quacken- 
bos's  "  Elementary  History  of  the  United  States" 
in  his  pocket,  and  the  Squire's  cows  had  ample  time  to 
breakfast  on  wayside  grass  before  they  were  put  into 
their  pasture.  Even  then  the  pleasant  lesson  was  not 
ended,  for  Ben  had  an  errand  to  town  ;  and  all  the  way 
he  read  busily,  tumbling  over  the  hard  words,  and  leav- 
ing bits  which  he  did  not  understand  to  be  explained  at 
night  by  Bab. 

At  "  The  First  Settlements"  he  had  to  stop,  for  the 
schoolhouse  was  reached,  and  the  book  must  be  re- 
turned. The  maple-tree  closet  was  easily  found,  and  a 
little  surprise  hidden  under  the  flat  stone  ;  for  Ben  paid 
two  sticks  of  red  and  white  candy  for  the  privilege  of 
taking  books  from  the  new  library. 

When  recess  came,  great  was  the  rejoicing  of  the 
children  over  their  unexpected  treat,  for  Mrs.  Moss  had 
few  pennies  to  spare  for  sweets,  and,  somehow,  this 
candy  tasted  particularly  nice,  bought  out  of  grateful 
Ben's  solitary  dime.  The  little  girls  shared  their  goodies 
with  their  favorite  mates,  but  said  nothing  about  the 
new  arrangement,  fearing  it  would  be  spoilt  if  generally 
known.    They  told  their  mother,  however,  and  she  gave 


54  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

them  leave  to  lend  their  books  and  encourage  Ben  to 
love  learning  all  they  could.  She  also  prooosed  that 
they  should  drop  patch-work,  and  help  her  make  some 
blue  shirts  for  Ben.  Mrs.  Barton  had  given  her  the 
materials,  and  she  thought  it  would  be  an  excellent 
lesson  in  needle-work  as  well  as  a  useful  gift  to  Ben,  — 
who,  boy-like,  never  troubled  himself  as  to  what  he 
should  wear  when  his  one  suit  of  clothes  gave  out. 

Wednesday  afternoon  was  the  sewing  time ;  so  tho 
two  little  B's  worked  busily  at  a  pair  of  shirt-sleeves, 
sitting  on  their  bench  in  the  doorway,  while  the  rusty 
needles  creaked  in  and  out,  and  the  childish  voices 
sang  school-songs,  with  frequent  stoppages  for  lively 
chatter. 

For  a  week,  Ben  worked  away  bravely,  and  never 
shirked  nor  complained,  although  Pat  put  many  a  hard 
or  disagreeable  job  upon  him,  and  chores  grew  more  and 
more  distasteful.  His  only  comfort  was  the  knowledge 
that  Mrs.  Moss  and  the  Squire  were  satisfied  with  him  ; 
his  only  pleasure  the  lessons  he  learned  while  driving 
the  cows,  and  recited  in  the  evening  when  the  three 
children  met  under  the  lilacs  to  "play  school." 

He  had  no  thought  of  studying  when  he  began,  and 
hardly  knew  that  he  was  doing  it  as  he  pored  over  the 
different  books  he  took  from  the  library.  But  the  little 
girls  tried  him  with  all  they  possessed,  and  he  was  mor- 
tified to  find  how  ignorant  he  was.  He  never  owned  it 
in  words,  but  gladly  accepted  all  the  bits  of  knowledge 
they  offered  from  their  small  store ;  getting  Betty  to 
hear  him  spell  "just  for  fun  ;  "  agreeing  to  draw  Bab  all 
the  bears  and  tigers  she  wanted  if  she  would  show  him 
how  to  do  sums  on  the  flags,  and  often  beguiled  hia 


NEW  FRIENDS   TROT  IN.  55 

lonely  labors  by  trying  to  chant  the  multiplication  table 
as  they  did.  When  Tuesday  night  came  round,  the 
Squire  paid  him  a  dollar,  said  he  was  "  a  likely  boy," 
and  might  stay  another  week  if  he  chose.  Ben  thanked 
him  and  thought  he  would  ;  but  the  next  morning,  after 
he  had  put  up  the  bars,  he  remained  sitting  on  the  top 
rail  to  consider  his  prospects,  for  he  felt  uncommonly 
reluctant  to  go  back  to  the  society  of  rough  Pat.  Like 
most  boys,  he  hated  work,  unless  it  was  of  a  sort  which 
just  suited  him ;  then  he  could  toil  like  a  beaver  and 
never  tire.  His  wandering  life  had  given  him  no  habits 
of  steady  industry ;  and,  while  he  was  an  unusually 
capable  lad  of  his  age,  he  dearly  loved  to  "  loaf"  about 
and  have  a  good  deal  of  variety  and  excitement  in  his 
life. 

Now  he  saw  nothing  before  him  but  days  of  patient 
and  very  uninteresting  labor.  He  was  heartily  sick  of 
weeding;  even  riding  Duke  before  the  cultivator  had 
lost  its  charms,  and  a  great  pile  of  wood  lay  in  the 
Squire's  yard,  which  he  knew  he  would  be  set  to  piling 
up  in  the  shed.  Strawberry-picking  would  soon  follow 
the  asparagus  cultivation ;  then  haying ;  and  so  on  all 
the  long  bright  summer,  without  any  fun,  unless  his 
father  came  for  him. 

On  the  other  hand,  he  was  not  obliged  to  stay  a 
minute  longer  unless  he  liked.  With  a  comfortable  suit 
of  clothes,  a  dollar  in  his  pocket,  and  a  row  of  dinner- 
baskets  hanging  in  the  school-house  entry  to  supply  him 
with  provisions  if  he  didn't  mind  stealing  them,  what 
was  easier  than  to  run  away  again  ?  Tramping  has  its 
charms  in  fair  weather,  and  Ben  had  lived  like  a  gypsy 
under  canvas  for  years  ;  so  he  feared  nothing,  and  began 


56  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

to  look  down  the  leafy  road  with  a  restless,  wistful 
expression,  as  the  temptation  grew  stronger  and  stronger 
every  minute. 

Sancho  seemed  to  share  the  longing,  for  he  kept 
running  off  a  little  way  and  stopping  to  frisk  and  bark ; 
then  rushed  back  to  sit  watching  his  master  with  those 
intelligent  eyes  of  his,  which  seemed  to  say,  "Come 
on,  Ben,  let  us  scamper  down  this  pleasant  road  and 
never  stop  till  we  are  tired."  Swallows  darted  by,  white 
clouds  fled  before  the  balmy  west  wind,  a  squirrel  ran 
along  the  wall,  and  all  things  seemed  to  echo  the  boy's 
desire  to  leave  toil  behind  and  roam  away  as  care-free 
as  they.  One  thing  restrained  him,  — the  thought  of 
his  seeming  ingratitude  to  good  Mrs.  Moss,  and  the 
disappointment  of  the  little  girls  at  the  loss  of  their 
two  new  play-fellows.  While  he  paused  to  think  of  this, 
something  happened  which  kept  him  from  doing  what  he 
would  have  been  sure  to  regret  afterward. 

Horses  had  always  been  his  best  friends,  and  one 
came  trotting  up  to  help  him  now ;  though  he  did  not 
know  how  much  he  owed  it  till  long  after.  Just  in  the 
act  of  swinging  himself  over  the  bars  to  take  a  short 
cut  across  the  fields,  the  sound  of  approaching  hoofs, 
unaccompanied  by  the  roll  of  wheels,  caught  his  ear ; 
and,  pausing,  he  watched  eagerly  to  see  who  was 
coming  at  such  a  pace. 

At  the  turn  of  the  road,  however,  the  quick  trot 
stopped,  and  in  a  moment  a  lady  on  a  bay  mare  came 
pacing  slowly  into  sight,  —  a  young  and  pretty  lady,  all 
in  dark  blue,  with  a  bunch  of  dandelions  like  yellow 
stars  in  her  button-hole,  and  a  silver-handled  whip 
hanging   from  the   pommel   of    her   saddle,    evidently 


NEW   FRIENDS   TROT  IN.  57 

more  for  ornament  than  use.  The  handsome  mare 
limped  a  little,  and  shook  her  head  as  if  something 
plagued  her ;  while  her  mistress  leaned  down  to  see 
what  was  the  matter,  saying,  as  if  she  expected  an 
answer  of  some  sort,  — 

"  Now,  Chevalita,  if  you  have  got  a  stone  in  your 
foot,  I  shall  have  to  get  off  and  take  it  out.  Why 
don't  you  look  where  you  step,  and  save  me  all  this 
trouble?" 

"I'll  look  for  you,  ma'am;  I'd  like  to!"  said  an 
eager  voice  so  unexpectedly,  that  both  horse  and  rider 
started  as  a  boy  came  down  the  bank  with  a  jump. 

"  I  wish  you  would.  You  need  not  be  afraid  ;  Lita  is 
as  gentle  as  a  lamb,"  answered  the  young  lady,  smiling, 
as  if  amused  by  the  boy's  earnestness. 

"She's  a  beauty,  any  way,"  muttered  Ben,  lifting 
one  foot  after  another  till  he  found  the  stone,  and  with 
some  trouble  got  it  out. 

"That  was  nicely  done,  and  I'm  much  obliged. 
Can  you  tell  me  if  that  cross-road  leads  to  the  Elms  ? " 
asked  the  lady,  as  she  went  slowly  on  with  Ben  beside 
her. 

"No,  ma'am;  I'm  new  in  these  parts,  and  I  only 
know  where  Squire  Morris  and  Mrs.  Moss  live." 

"  I  want  to  see  both  of  them,  so  suppose  you  show 
me  the  way.  I  was  here  long  ago,  and  thought  I  should 
remember  how  to  find  the  old  house  with  the  elm  avenue 
and  the  big  gate,  but  I  don't." 

"  I  know  it ;  they  call  that  place  the  Laylocks  now, 
'cause  there 's  a  hedge  of  'em  all  down  the  path  and 
front  wall.  It 's  a  real  pretty  place ;  Bab  and  Betty 
play  there,  and  so  do  I." 


58  UNDER   THE  LILACS. 

Ben  could  not  restrain  a  chuckle  at  the  recollection 
of  his  first  appearance  there,  and,  as  if  his  merriment 
or  his  words  interested  her,  the  lady  said  pleasantly, 
"Tell  me  all  about  it.  Are  Bab  and  Betty  your 
sisters  ?  " 

Quite  forgetting  his  intended  tramp,  Ben  plunged  into 
a  copious  history  of  himself  and  new-made  friends,  led 
on  by  a  kind  look,  an  inquiring  word,  and  sympathetic 
smile,  till  he  had  told  every  thing.  At  the  school-house 
corner  he  stopped  and  said,  spreading  his  arms  like  a 
sign-post,  — 

"  That 's  the  way  to  the  Laylocks,  and  this  is  the  way 
to  the  Squire's." 

"As  I  'm  in  a  hurry  to  see  the  old  house,  I  '11  go  this 
way  first,  if  you  will  be  kind  enough  to  give  my  love  to 
Mrs.  Morris,  and  tell  the  Squire  Miss  Celia  is  coming 
to  dine  with  him.  I  won't  say  good-by,  because  I  shall 
see  }tou  again." 

With  a  nod  and  a  smile,  the  young  lady  cantered 
away,  and  Ben  hurried  up  the  hill  to  deliver  his  message, 
feeling  as  if  something  pleasant  was  going  to  happen ; 
so  it  would  be  wise  to  defer  running  away,  for  the  pres- 
ent at  least. 

At  one  o'clock  Miss  Celia  arrived,  and  Ben  had  the 
delight  of  helping  Pat  stable  pretty  Chevalita ;  then,  his 
own  dinner  hastily  eaten,  he  fell  to  work  at  the  detested 
wood-  pile  with  sudden  energy ;  for  as  he  worked  he 
could  steal  peeps  into  the  dining-room,  and  see  the  curly 
brown  head  between  the  two  gray  ones,  as  the  three  sat 
round  the  table.  He  could  not  help  hearing  a  word 
now  and  then,  as  the  windows  were  open,  and  these 
bits  of  conversation  filled  him  with  curiosity;  for  the 


NEW  FRIENDS   TROT  IN.  5$ 

names  "  Thorny,"  "  Celia,"  and  "  George"  were  often 
repeated,  and  an  occasional  merry  laugh  from  the 
young  lady  sounded  like  music  in  that  usually  quiet 
place. 

When  dinner  was  over,  Ben's  industrious  fit  left  him, 
and  he  leisurely  trundled  his  barrow  to  and  fro  till  the 
guest  departed.  There  was  no  chance  for  him  to  help 
now,  since  Pat,  anxious  to  get  whatever  trifle  might  be 
offered  for  his  services,  was  quite  devoted  in  his  atten- 
tions to  the  mare  and  her  mistress,  till  she  was  mounted 
and  off.  But  Miss  Celia  did  not  forget  her  little  guide, 
and,  spying  a  wistful  face  behind  the  wood-pile,  paused 
at  the  gate  and  beckoned  with  that  winning  smile  of 
hers.  If  ten  Pats  had  stood  scowling  in  the  way,  Ben 
would  have  defied  them  all;  and,  vaulting  over  the 
fence,  he  ran  up  with  a  shining  face,  hoping  she  wanted 
some  last  favor  of  him.  Leaning  down,  Miss  Celia 
slipped  a  new  quarter  into  his  hand,  saying, — 

"  Lita  wants  me  to  give  you  this  for  taking  the  stone 
out  of  her  foot." 

"  Thank  y%  ma'am  ;  I  liked  to  do  it,  for  I  hate  to  see 
'em  limp,  'specially  such  a  pretty  one  as  she  is,"  an- 
swered Ben,  stroking  the  glossy  neck  with  a  loving 
touch. 

**  The  Squire  says  you  know  a  good  deal  about  horses, 
so  I  suppose  you  understand  the  Houyhnhnm  language  ? 
I  'm  learning  it,  and  it  is  very  nice,"  laughed  Miss  Celia, 
as  Chevalita  gave  a  little  whinny  and  snuggled  her  nose 
into  Ben's  pocket. 

"  No,  miss,  I  never  went  to  school." 

"  That  is  not  taught  there.  I  '11  bring  you  a  book  all 
about  it  when  I  come  back.    Mr.  Gulliver  went  to  the 


60  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

horse-country  and  heard  the  dear  things  speak  their  own 
tongue." 

"My  father  has  been  on  the  prairies,  where  there's 
lots  of  wild  ones,  but  he  didn't  hear  'em  speak.  I  know 
what  they  want  without  talkin,"  answered  Ben,  sus- 
pecting a  joke,  but  not  exactly  seeing  what  ft  was. 

' '  I  don't  doubt  it,  but  I  won't  forget  the  book. 
Good-by,  my  lad,  we  shall  soon  meet  again,"  and 
away  went  Miss  Celia  as  if  she  were  in  a  hurry  to  get 
back. 

"  If  she  only  had  a  red  habit  and  a  streamm'  white 
feather,  she  'd  look  as  fine  as  'Melia  used  to.  She  is 
'most  as  kind  and  rides  'most  as  well.  Wonder  where 
she 's  goin'  to.  Hope  she  will  come  soon,"  thought  Ben, 
watching  till  the  last  flutter  of  the  blue  habit  vanished 
round  the  corner ;  and  then  he  went  back  to  his  work 
with  his  head  Ml  of  the  promised  book,  pausing  now 
and  then  to  chink  the  two  silver  halves  and  the  new 
quarter  together  in  his  pocket,  wondering  what  he  should 
buy  with  this  vast  sum. 

Bab  and  Betty  meantime  had  had  a  most  exciting  day ; 
for  when  they  went  home  at  noon  they  found  the  pretty 
lady  there,  and  she  had  talked  to  them  like  an  old  friend, 
given  them  a  ride  on  the  little  horse,  and  kissed  them 
both  good-by  when  they  went  back  to  school.  In  the 
afternoon  the  lady  was  gone,  the  old  house  all  open, 
and  their  mother  sweeping,  dusting,  airing,  in  great 
spirits.  So  they  had  a  splendid  frolic  tumbling  on 
feather  beds,  beating  bits  of  carpet,  opening  closets, 
and  racing  from  garret  to  cellar  like  a  pair  of  distracted 
kittens. 

Here  Ben  found  them,  and  was  at  once  overwhelmed 


NEW  FRIENDS   TROT  IN.  61 

with  a  burst  of  news  which  excited  him  as  much  as  it 
did  them.  Miss  Celia  owned  the  house,  was  coming 
to  live  there,  and  things  were  to  be  made  ready  as  soon 
as  possible.  All  thought  the  prospect  a  charming  one  : 
Mrs.  Moss,  because  life  had  been  dull  for  her  during  the 
year  she  had  taken  charge  of  the  old  house ;  the  little 
girls  had  heard  rumors  of  various  pets  who  were  com- 
ing •  and  Ben,  learning  that  a  boy  and  a  donkey  were 
among  them,  resolved  that  nothing  but  the  arrival  of 
his  father  should  tear  him  from  this  now  deeply  inter- 
esting spot. 

"I'm  in  such  a  hurry  to  see  the  peacocks  and  hear 
them  scream.  She  said  they  did,  and  that  we  'd  laugh 
when  old  Jack  brayed,"  cried  Bab,  hopping  about  on 
one  foot  to  work  off  her  impatience. 

"Is  a  faytun  a  kind  of  a  bird?  I  heard  her  say 
she  could  keep  it  in  the  coach-house,"  asked  Betty, 
inquiringly. 

"It's  a  little  carriage,"  and  Ben  rolled  in  the  grass, 
much  tickled  at  poor  Betty's  ignorance. 

"  Of  course  it  is.  I  looked  it  out  in  the  die,  and  you 
mustn't  call  it  a  payton,  though  it  m  spelt  with  a  p," 
added  Bab,  who  liked  to  lay  down  the  law  on  all  occa- 
sions, and  did  not  mention  that  she  had  looked  vainly 
among  the  f 's  till  a  school-mate  set  her  right. 

"  You  can't  tell  me  much  about  carriages.  But  whax 
I  want  to  know  is  where  Lita  will  stay  ?  "  said  Ben. 

"Oh,  she's  to  be  up  at  the  Squire's  till  things  are 
fixed,  and  }tou  are  to  bring  her  down.  Squire  came  and 
told  Ma  all  about  it,  and  said  you  were  a  boy  to  be 
trusted,  for  he  had  tried  you." 

Ben  made  no  answer,  but  secretly  thanked  his  stars 


62  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

that  he  had  not  proved  himself  untrustworthy  by  run- 
ning away,  and  so  missing  all  this  fun. 

"  Won't  it  be  fine  to  have  the  house  open  all  the  time  ? 
We  can  run  over  and  see  the  pictures  and  books  when- 
ever we  like.  I  know  we  can,  Miss  Celia  is  so  kind/' 
began  Betty,  who  cared  for  these  things  more  than  for 
screaming  peacocks  and  comical  donkeys. 

"  Not  unless  you.  are  invited,"  answered  their  mother, 
locking  the  front  door  behind  her.  "You'd  better 
begin  to  pick  up  your  duds  right  away,  for  she  won't 
want  them  cluttering  round  her  front  yard.  If  you 
are  not  too  tired,  Ben,  you  might  rake  round  a  little 
while  I  shut  the  blinds.  I  want  things  to  look  nice  and 
tidy." 

Two  little  groans  went  up  from  two  afflicted  little 
girls  as  the}-  looked  about  them  at  the  shady  bower,  the 
dear  porch,  and  the  winding  walks  where  the}r  loved  to 
run  "  till  their  hah*  whistled  in  the  wind,"  as  the  fairy- 
books  say. 

' '  Whatever  shall  we  do  !  Our  attic  is  so  hot  and  the 
shed  so  small,  and  the  yard  alwaj's  full  of  hens  or  clothes. 
We  shall  have  to  pack  all  our  things  away,  and  never 
play  any  more,"  said  Bab,  tragically. 

"  May  be  Ben  could  build  us  a  little  house  in  the 
orchard,"  proposed  Betty,  who  firmly  believed  that  Ben 
could  do  any  thing. 

"  He  won't  have  anytime.  Boys  don't  care  for  baby- 
houses,"  returned  Bab,  collecting  her  homeless  goods 
and  chattels  with  a  dismal  face. 

"  We  sha'n't  want  these  much  when  all  the  new  things 
come  ;  see  if  we  do,"  said  cheerful  little  Betty,  who  al- 
ways found  out  a  silver  lining  to  every  cloud. 


CHAPTER    VIIL 

MISS    CELIACS   MAN. 

BEN  was  not  too  tired,  and  the  clearing-up  oegan 
that  very  night.  None  too  soon,  for  in  a  day  or 
two  things  arrived,  to  the  great  delight  of  the  children, 
who  considered  moving  a  most  interesting  play.  First 
came  the  phaeton,  which  Ben  spent  all  his  leisure  mo- 
ments in  admiring ;  wondering  with  secret  envy  what 
happy  bo}r  would  ride  in  the  little  seat  up  behind,  and 
beguiling  his  tasks  by  planning  how,  when  he  got  rich, 
he  would  pass  his  time  driving  about  in  just  such  an 
equipage,  and  inviting  all  the  boys  he  met  to  have  a 
ride. 

Then  a  load  of  furniture  came  creaking  in  at  the 
lodge  gate,  and  the  girls  had  raptures  over  a  cottage 
piano,  several  small  chairs,  and  a  little  low  table,  which 
they  pronounced  just  the  thing  for  them  to  play  at. 
The  live  stock  appeared  next,  creating  a  great  stir  in 
the  neighborhood,  for  peacocks  were  rare  birds  there  ; 
the  donkey's  bray  startled  the  cattle  and  convulsed  the 
people  with  laughter ;  the  rabbits  were  continually  get* 
ting  out  to  burrow  in  the  newly  made  garden ;  and 
Chevalita  scandalized  old  Duke  by  dancing  about  the 
stable  which  he  had  inhabited  for  years  in  stately 
solitude. 


64  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

Last  but  by  no  means  least,  Miss  Celia,  hor  young 
brother,  and  two  maids  arrived  one  evening  so  late  that 
only  Mrs.  Moss  went  over  to  help  them  settle.  The 
children  were  much  disappointed,  but  were  appeased  by 
a  promise  that  thev  should  all  go  to  pa}-  their  respects 
in  the  morning. 

They  were  up  so  early,  and  were  so  impatient  to  be 
off,  that  Mrs.  Moss  let  them  go  with  the  warning  that 
they  would  find  only  the  servants  astir.  She  was  mis- 
taken, however,  for,  as  the  procession  approached,  a 
voice  from  the  porch  called  out,  "  Good-morning, 
little  neighbors ! "  so  unexpectedly,  that  Bab  nearly 
spilt  the  new  milk  she  carried,  Betty  gave  such  a  start 
that  the  fresh-laid  eggs  quite  skipped  in  the  dish,  and 
Ben's  face  broke  into  a  broad  grin  over  the  armful  of 
clover  which  he  brought  for  the  bunnies,  as  he  bobbed 
his  head,  saying  briskly,  — 

"  She's  all  right,  miss,  Lita  is  ;  and  I  can  bring  her 
over  any  minute  you  sa}\" 

"  I  shall  want  her  at  four  o'clock.  Thorny  will  be 
too  tired  to  drive,  but  I  must  hear  from  the  post-office, 
rain  or  shine  ;  "  and  Miss  Celia's  pretty  color  brightened 
as  she  spoke,  either  from  some  happy  thought  or  because 
she  was  bashful,  for  the  honest  }'oung  faces  before  her 
plainly  showed  their  admiration  of  the  white-gowned 
lady  under  the  honeysuckles. 

The  appearance  of  Miranda,  the  maid,  reminded  the 
children  of  their  errand ;  and,  having  delivered  their 
offerings,  they  were  about  to  retire  in  some  confusion, 
when  Miss  Celia  said  pleasantly,  — 

' '  I  want  to  thank  3-ou  for  helping  put  things  in  such 
nice  order.     I   see  signs  of  busy  hands  and  feet  both 


MISS   CELIACS  MAN.  t>0 

inside  the  house  and  all  about  the  grounds,  and  1  am 
very  much  obliged." 

"  I  raked  the  beds,"  said  Ben,  proudly  eying  the  neat 
ovals  and  circles. 

"  I  swept  all  the  paths,"  added  Bab,  with  a  reproach 
ful  glance  at  several  green  sprigs  fallen  from  the  load 
of  clover  on  the  smooth  walk. 

"  I  cleared  up  the  porch,"  and  Betty's  clean  pinafore 
rose  and  fell  with  a  long  sigh,  as  she  surveyed  the  late 
summer  residence  of  her  exiled  family. 

Miss  Celia  guessed  the  meaning  of  that  sigh,  and 
made  haste  to  turn  it  into  a  smile  by  asking  anx- 
iously, — 

"  What  has  become  of  the  playthings?  I  don't  see 
them  airy  where." 

"Ma  said  you  wouldn't  want  our  duds  round,  so 
we  took  them  all  home,"  answered  Betty,  with  a  wistful 
face. 

"But  I  do  want  them  round.  I  like  dolls  and  toys 
almost  as  much  as  ever,  and  quite  miss  the  little 
'  duds '  from  porch  and  path.  Suppose  you  come  to 
tea  with  me  to-night  and  bring  some  of  them  back  ?  I 
should  be  very  sorry  to  rob  you  of  your  pleasant  play- 
place." 

"Oh,  yes, 'm,  we'd  love  to  come!  and  we'll  bring 
our  best  things." 

"Ma  always  lets  us  have  our  shiny  pitchers  and  the 
china  poodle  when  we  go  visiting  or  have  company  at 
home,"  said  Bab  and  Betty,  both  speaking  at  once. 

"  Bring  what  you  like,  and  I'll  hunt  up  my  toys,  too 
Ben  is  to  come  also,  and  his  poodle  is  especially  in- 
vited," added  Miss  Celia,  as  Sancho  came  and  begged 


66  UNDER   TEE  LILACS. 

before  her,  feeling  that  some  agreeable  project  was 
under  discussion. 

"Thank  you,  miss.  I  told  them  you'd  be  willing 
they  should  come  sometimes.  They  like  this  place  ever 
so  much,  and  so  do  I,"  said  Ben,  feeling  that  few  spots 
combined  so  many  advantages  in  the  way  of  climbable 
trees,  arched  gates,  half-a-dozen  gables,  and  other 
charms  suited  to  the  taste  of  an  aspiring  }Touth  who 
had  been  a  flying  Cupid  at  the  age  of  seven. 

"So  do  I,"  echoed  Miss  Celia,  heartily.  "  Ten  years 
ago  I  came  here  a  little  girl,  and  made  lilac  chains 
under  these  very  bushes,  and  picked  chickweed  over 
there  for  my  bird,  and  rode  Thorny  in  his  bab3T-wagon 
up  and  down  these  paths.  Grandpa  lived  here  then, 
and  we  had  fine  times  ;  but  now  they  are  all  gone  except 
us  two." 

"We  haven't  got  any  father,  either,"  said  Bab,  for 
something  in  Miss  Celia's  face  made  her  feel  as  if  a 
cloud  had  come  over  the  sun. 

"  /  have  a  first-rate  father,  if  I  only  knew  where 
he'd  gone  to,"  said  Ben,  looking  down  the  path  as 
eagerly  as  if  some  one  waited  for  him  behind  the  locked 
gate. 

"  You  are  a  rich  boy,  and  you  are  happ}  little  girls 
to  have  so  good  a  mother  ;  I  've  found  that  out  already," 
and  the  sun  shone  again  as  the  young  lady  nodded  to 
the  neat,  rosy  children  before  her. 

"  You  m&y  have  a  piece  of  her  if  you  want  to,  'cause 
you  haven't  got  any  of  your  own,"  said  Betty,  with  a 
uitiful  look  which  made  her  blue  eyes  as  sweet  as  two 
wet  violets. 

"So  I  will!  and  you  shall  be  my  little  sisters.     I 


MISS   CELIACS  MAN.  67 

never  had  any,  and  I  'd  love  to  try  how  it  seems  ;  "  and 
Miss  Celia  took  both  the  chubby  hands  in  hers,  feeling 
ready  to  love  every  one  this  first  bright  morning  in 
the  new  home,  which  she  hoped  to  make  a  very  happy 
one. 

Bab  gave  a  satisfied  nod,  and  fell  to  examining  the 
rings  upon  the  white  hand  that  held  her  own.  But 
Betty  put  her  arms  about  the  new  friend's  neck,  and 
kissed  her  so  softly  that  the  hungry  feeling  in  Miss 
Celia's  heart  felt  better  directly ;  for  this  was  the  food 
it  wanted,  and  Thorny  had  not  learned  yet  to  return 
one  half  of  the  affection  he  received.  Holding  the 
child  close,  she  played  with  the  yellow  braids  while  she 
told  them  about  the  little  German  girls  in  their  funny 
black-silk  caps,  short-waisted  gowns,  and  wooden  shoes, 
whom  she  used  to  see  watering  long  webs  of  linen 
bleaching  on  the  grass,  watching  great  flocks  of  geese, 
or  driving  pigs  to  market,  knitting  or  spinning  as  they 
went. 

Presently  "  Randa,"  as  she  called  her  stout  maid, 
came  to  tell  her  that  ' '  Master  Thorny  couldn't  wait 
another  minute  ; "  and  she  went  in  to  breakfast  with  a 
good  appetite,  while  the  children  raced  home  to  bounce 
in  upon  Mrs.  Moss,  talking  all  at  once  like  little 
lunatics. 

"  The  phaeton  at  four,  —  so  sweet  in  a  beautiful  white 
gown, — going  to  tea,  and  Sancho  and  all  the  baby 
things  invited.  Can't  we  wear  our  Sunday  frocks  ?  A 
splendid  new  net  for  Lita.  And  she  likes  dolls.  Goody, 
goody,  won't  it  be  fun  !  " 

With  much  difficulty  their  mother  got  a  clear  account 
of  the  approaching  festivity  out  of  the  eager  mouths. 


68  UNDER    THE  LILAC*. 

and  with  still  more  difficulty  got  breakfast  into  them, 
for  the  children  had  few  pleasures,  and  this  brilliant 
prospect  rather  turned  their  heads. 

Bab  and  Betty  thought  the  day  would  never  end,  and 
cheered  the  long  hours  by  expatiating  on  the  pleasures 
in  store  for  them,  till  their  playmates  were  much  af- 
flicted because  they  were  not  going  also.  At  noon  theii 
mother  kept  them  from  running  over  to  the  old  house 
lest  the}'  should  be  in  the  way ;  so  they  consoled  them 
selves  by  going  to  the  syringa  bush  at  the  corner  and 
sniffing  the  savor}T  odors  which  came  from  the  kitchen, 
where  Katy,  the  cook,  was  evidently  making  nice  things 
for  tea. 

Ben  worked  as  if  for  a  wager  till  four ;  then  stood 
over  Pat  while  he  curried  Lita  till  her  coat  shone  like 
satin,  then  drove  her  gently  down  to  the  coach-house, 
where  he  had  the  satisfaction  of  harnessing  her  "  all 
his  own  self." 

1 '  Shall  I  go  round  to  the  great  gate  and  wait  for  you 
there,  miss?  "  he  asked,  when  all  was  read}',  looking  up 
at  the  porch,  where  the  young  lady  stood  watching  him 
as  she  put  on  her  gloves. 

"No,  Ben,  the  great  gate  is  not  to  be  opened  till 
next  October.  I  shall  go  in  and  out  by  the  lodge,  and 
leave  the  avenue  to  grass  and  dandelions,  mean  time," 
answered  Miss  Celia,  as  she  stepped  in  and  took  the 
reins,  with  a  sudden  smile. 

But  she  did  not  start,  even  when  Ben  had  shaken 
out  the  new  duster  and  laid  it  neatly  over  her  knees. 

"  Isn't  it  all  right  now?"  asked  the  boy,  anxiously. 

"  Not  quite  ;  I  need  one  thing  more.  Can't  yon  guess 
what  it  is  ?  "  —  aud  Miss  Celia  watched  his  anxious  face 


MISS   CELIACS  MAN.  69 

as  his  eyes  wandered  from  the  tips  of  Lita's  ears  to  the 
hind- wheel  of  the  phaeton,  trying  to  discover  what  had 
Deen  omitted. 

"  No,  miss,  I  don't  see  —  "  he  began,  much  mortified 
to  think  he  had  forgotten  any  thing. 

"  Wouldn't  a  little  groom  up  behind  improve  the  ap- 
pearance of  my  turnout?"  she  said,  with  a  look  which 
left  no  doubt  in  his  mind  that  he  was  to  be  the  happy 
boy  to  occupy  that  proud  perch. 

He  grew  red  with  pleasure,  but  stammered,  as  he 
hesitated,  looking  down  at  his  bare  feet  and  blue 
shirt,  — 

"  I  ain't  fit,  miss ;  and  I  have  n't  got  any  other 
clothes." 

Miss  Celia  only  smiled  again  more  kindly  than  before, 
and  answered,  in  a  tone  which  he  understood  better  than 
her  words,  — 

"  A  great  man  said  his  coat-of-arms  was  a  pair  of 
shirt-sleeves,  and  a  sweet  poet  sang  about  a  barefooted 
bo}T ;  so  I  need  not  be  too  proud  to  ride  with  one.  Up 
with  you,  Ben,  my  man,  and  let  us  be  off,  or  we  shall 
be  late  for  our  party." 

With  one  bound  the  new  groom  was  in  his  place, 
sitting  very  erect,  with  his  legs  stiff,  arms  folded,  and 
nose  in  the  air,  as  he  had  seen  real  grooms  sit  behind 
their  masters  in  fine  dog-carts  or  carriages.  Mrs.  Moss 
nodded  as  they  drove  past  the  lodge,  and  Ben  touched 
his  torn  hat-brim  in  the  most  dignified  manner,  though 
he  could  not  suppress  a  broad  grin  of  delight,  which 
deepened  into  a  chuckle  when  Lita  went  off  at  a  brisk 
trot  along  the  smooth  road  toward  town. 

It  takes  so  little  to  make  a  child  happ}T,  it  is  a  pity 


70  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

grown  people  do  not  oftener  remember  it  and  scattei 
little  bits  of  pleasure  before  the  small  people,  as  they 
throw  crumbs  to  the  hungry  sparrows.  Miss  Celia  knew 
the  boy  was  pleased,  but  he  had  no  words  in  which  to 
express  his  gratitude  for  the  great  contentment  she  had 
given  him.  He  could  only  beam  at  all  he  met,  smile 
when  the  floating  ends  of  the  gray  veil  blew  against  his 
face,  and  long  in  his  heart  to  give  the  new  friend  a 
boyish  hug,  as  he  used  to  do  his  dear  'Melia  when  she 
was  very  good  to  him. 

School  was  just  out  as  they  passed ;  and  it  was  a 
spectacle,  T  assure  you,  to  see  the  boys  and  girls  stare 
at  Ben  up  aloft  in  such  state ;  also  to  see  the  superb 
indifference  with  which  that  young  man  regarded  the 
vulgar  herd  who  went  afoot.  He  could  not  resist  an 
affable  nod  to  Bab  and  Betty,  for  they  stood  under  the 
maple-tree,  and  the  memory  of  their  circulating  library 
made  him  forget  his  dignity  in  his  gratitude. 

"We  will  take  them  next  time,  but  now  I  want  to 
talk  to  you,"  began  Miss  Celia,  as  Lita  climbed  the 
hill.  "My  brother  has  been  ill,  and  I  have  brought 
him  here  to  get  well.  I  want  to  do  all  sorts  of  things 
to  amuse  him,  and  I  think  you  can  help  me  in  many 
ways.  Would  you  like  to  work  for  me  instead  of  the 
Squire?" 

"  I  guess  I  would !  "  ejaculated  Ben,  so  heartily  that 
no  further  assurances  were  needed,  and  Miss  Celia  went 
on,  well  pleased :  — 

"  You  see,  poor  Thorny  is  weak  and  fretful,  and  does 
not  like  to  exert  himself,  though  he  ought  to  be  out  a 
great  deal,  and  kept  from  thinking  of  his  little  troubles. 
He  cannot  walk  much  yet,  so  I  have  a  wheeled  chaii 


MISS   CELIACS  MAN.  71 

to  push  mm  in ;  and  the  paths  are  so  hard,  it  will  be 
easy  to  roll  him  about.  That  will  be  one  thing  you 
can  do.  Another  is  to  take  care  of  his  pets  till  he  is 
able  to  do  it  himself.  Then  you  can  tell  him  yout 
adventures,  and  talk  to  him  as  only  a  boy  can  talk  to 
a  boy.  That  will  amuse  him  when  I  want  to  write  of 
go  out ;  but  I  never  leave  him  long,  and  hope  he  will 
soon  be  running  about  as  well  as  the  rest  of  us.  How 
does  that  sort  of  work  look  to  you  ?  " 

"  First-rate!  I'll  take  real  good  care  of  the  little 
feller,  and  do  every  thing  I  know  to  please  him,  and  so 
will  Sanch ;  he 's  fond  of  children,"  answered  Ben, 
heartily,  for  the  new  place  looked  very  inviting  to  him. 

Miss  Celia  laughed,  and  rather  damped  his  ardor 
by  her  next  words. 

"  I  don't  know  what  Thorny  would  say  to  hear  you 
call  him  4  little.'  He  is  fourteen,  and  appears  to  get 
taller  and  taller  ever}'  day.  He  seems  like  a  child  to 
me,  because  I  am  nearly  ten  years  older  than  he  is  ;  but 
you  needn't  be  afraid  of  his  long  legs  and  big  eyes,  — 
he  is  too  feeble  to  do  any  harm ;  only  you  mustn't 
mind  if  he  orders  you  about." 

"  I  'm  used  to  that.  I  don't  mind  it  if  he  won't  call 
me  a  '  spalpeen,'  and  fire  things  at  me,"  said  Eenf 
thinking  of  his  late  trials  with  Pat. 

"  I  can  promise  that ;  and  I  am  sure  Thorny  will  like 
you,  for  I  told  him  your  story,  and  he  is  anxious  to  see 
4  the  circus  boy,'  as  he  called  you.  Squire  Allen  says 
I  may  trust  you,  and  I  am  glad  to  do  so,  for  it  saves 
me  much  trouble  to  find  what  I  want  all  ready  for  me. 
You  shall  be  well  fed  and  clothed,  kindly  treated  and 
honestly  paid,  if  you  like  to  stay  with  me." 


72  UNDER    THE  LILAC b. 

"I  know  I  shall  like  it  —  till  father  comes,  airy-way. 
Squire  wrote  to  Smithers  right  off,  but  hasu't  got  any 
answer  yet.  I  know  they  are  on  the  go  now,  so  may 
be  we  won't  hear  for  ever  so  long,"  answered  Ben, 
feeling  less  impatient  to  be  off  than  before  this  fine 
proposal  was  made  to  him. 

"  I  dare  say ;  meantime,  we  will  see  how  we  get  on 
together,  and  perhaps  your  father  will  be  willing  to  leave 
you  for  the  summer  if  he  is  awaj^.  Now  show  me 
the  baker's,  the  candy-shop,  and  the  post-office,"  said 
Miss  Celia,  as  they  rattled  down  the  main  street  of  the 
village. 

Ben  made  himself  useful ;  and  when  all  the  other 
errands  were  done,  received  his  reward  in  the  shape  of 
a  new  pair  of  shoes  and  a  straw  hat  with  a  streaming 
blue  ribbon,  on  the  ends  of  which  shone  silvery  anchors. 
He  was  also  allowed  to  drive  home,  while  his  new  mistress 
read  her  letters.  One  particularly  long  one,  with  a  queer 
stamp  on  the  envelope,  she  read  twice,  never  speaking 
a  word  till  the}'  got  back.  Then  Ben  was  sent  off  with 
Lita  and  the  Squire's  letters,  promising  to  get  his  chores 
done  in  time  for  tea. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

A   HAPPY  TEA. 

EXACTLY  five  minutes  before  six  the  party  arrived 
in  great  state,  for  Bab  and  Betty  wore  their  best 
frocks  and  hair-ribbons,  Ben  had  a  new  blue  shirt  and 
his  shoes  on  as  full-dress,  and  Sancho's  curls  were  nicely 
brushed,  his  frills  as  white  as  if  just  done  up. 

No  one  was  visible  to  receive  them,  but  the  low  table 
stood  in  the  middle  of  the  walk,  with  four  chairs  and  a 
foot-stool  around  it.  A  pretty  set  of  green  and  white 
china  caused  the  girls  to  cast  admiring  looks  upon  the 
little  cups  and  plates,  while  Ben  eyed  the  feast  long- 
ingly, and  Sancho  with  difficulty  restrained  himself  from 
repeating  his  former  naughtiness.  No  wonder  the  dog 
sniffed  and  the  children  smiled,  for  there  was  a  noble 
display  of  little  tarts  and  cakes,  little  biscuits  and  sand- 
wiches, a  pretty  milk-pitcher  shaped  like  a  white  calla 
rising  out  of  its  green  leaves,  and  a  jolly  little  tea 
kettle  singing  away  over  the  spirit-lamp  as  cosily  as 
you  please. 

"Isn't  it  perfectly  lovely?"  whispered  Betty,  who 
had  never  seen  any  thing  like  it  before. 

"  I  just  wish  Sally  could  see  us  now"  answered  Bab, 
who  had  not  yet  forgiven  her  enemy. 

"Wonier  where  the  boy  is,"  added  Ben,  feeling  as 
4 


74  UNDER    THE   LILACS. 

good  as  any  one,  but  rather  doubtful  how  others  might 
regard  him. 

Here  a  rumbling  sound  caused  the  guests  to  look 
toward  the  garden,  and  in  a  moment  Miss  Celia  ap- 
peared, pushing  a  wheeled  chair,  in  which  sat  her 
brother.  A  gay  afghan  covered  the  long  legs,  a  broad- 
brimmed  hat  half  hid  the  big  eyes,  and  a  discontented 
expression  made  the  thin  face  as  unattractive  as  the 
fretful  voice,  which  said,  complainingly,  — 

"  If  the}T  make  a  noise,  I'll  go  in.  Don't  see  what 
you  asked  them  for." 

"  To  amuse  you,  dear.  I  know  they  will,  if  you  will 
only  try  to  like  them,"  whispered  the  sister,  smiling  and 
nodding  over  the  chair-back  as  she  came  on,  adding 
aloud,  "  Such  a  punctual  party!  I  am  all  ready,  how- 
ever, and  we  will  sit  down  at  once.  This  is  ruy  brothei 
Thornton,  and  we  are  all  going  to  be  very  good  friends 
by-and-by.  Here  's  the  droll  dog,  Thorny  ;  isn't  he  nice 
and  curry?" 

Now,  Ben  had  heard  what  the  other  boy  said,  and 
made  up  his  mind  that  he  shouldn't  like  him  ;  and  Thorny 
had  decided  beforehand  that  he  wouldn't  play  with  a 
tramp,  even  if  he  could  cut  capers ;  so  both  looked 
decidedly  cool  and  indifferent  when  Miss  Celia  intro- 
duced them.  But  Sancho  had  better  manners,  and  no 
foolish  pride ;  he,  therefore,  set  them  a  good  example 
by  approaching  the  chair,  with  his  tail  waving  like  a 
flag  of  truce,  and  politely  presented  his  ruined  paw  foi 
a  hearty  shake. 

Thorny  could  not  resist  that  appeal,  and  patted  the 
white  head,  with  a  friendly  look  into  the  affectionate  eyes 
of  the  dog,  saying  to  his  sister  as  he  did  so,  — 


A  HAPPY  TEA.  75 

"What  a  wise  old  fellow  lie  is!  It  seems  as  if  he 
could  almost  speak,  doesn't  it?" 

"  He  can.  Say  '  How  do  you  do/  Sanch,"  commanded 
Ben,  relenting  at  once,  for  he  saw  admiration  in  Thorny's 
face. 

"Wow,  wow,  wow!"  remarked  Sancho,  in  a  mild 
and  conversational  tone,  sitting  up  and  touching  one 
paw  to  his  head,  as  if  he  saluted  by  taking  off  his 
hat. 

Thorny  laughed  in  spite  of  himself,  and  Miss  Celia, 
seeing  that  the  ice  was  broken,  wheeled  him  to  his  place 
at  the  foot  of  the  table.  Then,  seating  the  little  girls 
on  one  side,  Ben  and  the  dog  on  the  other,  took  the 
uead  herself  and  told  her  guests  to  begin. 

Bab  and  Betty  were  soon  chattering  away  to  their 
pleasant  hostess  as  freely  as  if  they  had  known  her  for 
months ;  but  the  boys  were  still  rather  shy,  and  made 
Sancho  the  medium  through  which  they  addressed  one 
another.  The  excellent  beast  behaved  with  wonderful 
propriety,  sitting  upon  his  cushion  in  an  attitude  of 
such  dignity  that  it  seemed  almost  a  liberty  to  offer 
him  food.  A  dish  of  thick  sandwiches  had  been  pro- 
vided for  his  especial  refreshment ;  and,  as  Ben  from 
time  to  time  laid  one  on  his  plate,  he  affected  entiie 
unconsciousness  of  it  till  the  word  was  given,  when  it 
vanished  at  one  gulp,  and  Sancho  again  appeared  ab 
sorbed  in  deep  thought. 

But,  having  once  tasted  of  this  pleasing  delicacy,  it 
was  very  hard  to  repress  his  longing  for  more  ;  and,  in 
spite  of  all  his  efforts,  his  nose  would  work,  his  eye  kept 
a  keen  watch  upon  that  particular  dish,  and  his  tail 
quivered  with  excitement  as  it  lay  like  a  train  over  the 


T6  UNDER    THE  LILA^^. 

red  cushion.  At  last,  a  moment  came  when  temptation 
proved  too  strong  for  him.  Ben  was  listening  to  some- 
thing Miss  Celia  said ;  a  tart  lay  unguarded  upon  his 
plate  ;  Sanch  looked  at  Thorny,  who  was  watching  him ; 
Thorny  nodded,  Sanch  gave  one  wink,  bolted  the  tart, 
and  then  gazed  pensively  up  at  a  sparrow  swinging  on 
a  twig  overhead. 

The  slyness  of  the  rascal  tickled  the  boy  so  much  that 
he  pushed  back  his  hat,  clapped  his  hands,  and  burst 
out  laughing  as  he  had  not  done  before  for  weeks. 
Every  one  looked  round  surprised,  and  Sancho  regarded 
them  with  a  mildly  inquiring  air,  as  if  he  said,  "  Why 
this  unseemly  mirth,  my  friends  ?  " 

Thorny  forgot  both  sulks  and  shyness  after  that,  and 
suddenly  began  to  talk.  Ben  was  flattered  by  his  in- 
terest in  the  dear  dog,  and  opened  out  so  delightfully 
that  he  soon  charmed  the  other  by  his  lively  tales  of 
circus-life.  Then  Miss  Celia  felt  relieved,  and  every 
thing  went  splendidly,  especially  the  food  ;  for  the  plates 
were  emptied  several  times,  the  little  tea-pot  ran  dry 
twice,  and  the  hostess  was  just  wondering  if  she  ought 
to  stop  her  voracious  guests,  when  something  occurred 
which  spared  her  that  painful  task. 

A  small  boy  was  suddenly  discovered  standing  in  the 
path  behind  them,  regarding  the  company  with  an  air 
jf  solemn  interest.  A  pretty,  well-dressed  child  of  six, 
»vith  dark  hair  cut  short  across  the  brow,  a  rosy  face,  a 
stout  pair  of  legs,  left  bare  by  the  socks  which  had 
slipped  down  over  the  dusty  little  shoes.  One  end  of  a 
wide  sash  trailed  behind  him,  a  straw  hat  hung  at  his 
back,  while  his  right  hand  firmly  grasped  a  small  turtle, 
and  his  left  a  choice  collection  of  sticks.    Before  Miss 


A   HAPPY  TEA.  77 

Celia  could  speak,  the  stranger  calmly  announced  his 
mission. 

"  I  have  come  to  see  the  peacocks." 

"You  shall  presently  — "  began  Miss  Celia,  but 
got  no  further,  for  the  child  added,  coming  a  step 
nearer,  — 

"And  the  wabbits." 

"  Yes,  but  first  won't  you  —  " 

"And  the  curly  dog,"  continued  the  small  voice, 
as  another  step  brought  the  resolute  young  personage 
nearer. 

"  There  he  is." 

A  pause,  a  long  look ;  then  a  new  demand  with  the 
same  solemn  tone,  the  same  advance. 

"  I  wish  to  hear  the  donkey  bray." 

"Certainly,  if  he  will." 

"And  the  peacocks  scream." 

"  Any  thing  more,  sir  ?  " 

Having  reached  the  table  by  this  time,  the  insatiable 
infant  surveyed  its  ravaged  surface,  then  pointed  a  fat 
little  finger  at  the  last  cake,  left  for  manners,  and  said, 
commandingly,  — 

"  I  will  have  some  of  that." 

"  Help  yourself ;  and  sit  upon  the  step  to  eat  it,  while 
you  tell  me  whose  boy  you  are,"  said  Miss  Celia,  much 
amused  at  his  proceedings. 

Deliberately  putting  down  his  sticks,  the  child  took 
the  cake,  and,  composing  himself  upon  the  step,  an- 
swered with  his  rosy  mouth  full,  — 

"  I  am  papa's  boy.  He  makes  a  paper.  I  help  him 
a  great  deal." 

"  What  is  his  name  ?  " 


78  UNDER   THE  LILAC 8. 

"  Mr.  Bailow.  We  live  in  Springfield,"  volunteered 
the  new  guest,  unbending  a  trifle,  thanks  to  the  charms 
of  the  cake. 

"  Have  you  a  mamma,  dear?" 

"  She  takes  naps.     I  go  to  walk  then." 

4 'Without  leave,  I  suspect.  Have  you  no  brothers 
or  sisters  to  go  with  you  ?  "  asked  Miss  Celia,  wondering 
where  the  little  runaway  belonged. 

"I  have  two  brothers,  —  Thomas  Merton  Barlow  and 
Harry  Sanford  Barlow.  I  am  Alfred  Tennyson  Barlow. 
We  don't  have  any  girls  in  our  house,  only  Bridget." 

"  Don't  you  go  to  school?" 

"  The  boys  do.  I  don't  learn  any  Greeks  and  Latins 
yet.  I  dig,  and  read  to  mamma,  and  make  poetrys  for 
her." 

"Couldn't  you  make  some  for  me?  I'm  very  fond 
of  poetrys,"  proposed  Miss  Ceiia,  seeing  that  this  prattle 
amused  the  children. 

"I  guess  I  couldn't  make  any  now;  I  made  some 
..coming  along.     I  will  say  it  to  you." 

And,  crossing  his  short  legs,  the  inspired  babe  half 
said,  half  sung  the  following  poem : 1  — 

"  Sweet  are  the  flowers  of  life, 
Swept  o'er  my  happy  days  at  home; 
Sweet  are  the  flowers  of  life 
When  I  was  a  little  child. 

*  Sweet  are  the  flowers  of  life 
That  I  spent  with  my  father  at  home ; 
Sweet  are  the  flowers  of  life 
When  children  played  about  the  house. 

1  These  lines  were  actually  composed  by  a  six-year  old  child. 


A    HAPPY   TEA.  79 

**  Sweet  are  the  flowers  of  life 
When  the  lamps  are  lighted  at  night ; 
Sweet  are  the  flowers  of  life 
When  the  flowers  of  summer  bloomed. 

"  Sweet  are  the  flowers  of  life 
Dead  with  the  snows  of  winter ; 
Sweet  are  the  flowers  of  life 
When  the  days  of  spring  come  on. 

"  That  s  all  of  that  one.  I  made  another  one  "when 
I  digged  after  the  turtle.  I  will  say  that.  It  is  a 
very  pretty  one,"  observed  the  poet  with  charming 
candor;  and,  taking  a  long  breath,  he  tuned  his  little 
lyre  afresh:  — 

"  Sweet,  sweet  days  are  passing 
O'er  my  happy  home, 

Passing  on  swift  wings  through  the  valley  of  life. 
Cold  are  the  days  when  winter  comes  again. 
When  my  sweet  days  were  passing  at  my  happy  home, 
Sweet  were  the  days  on  the  rivulet's  green  brink  ; 
Sweet  were  the  days  when  I  read  my  father's  books ; 
Sweet  were  the  winter  days  when  bright  fires  are  blazing." 

" Bless  the  baby!  where  did  he  get  all  that?"  ex- 
claimed Miss  Celia,  amazed  ;  while  the  children  giggled 
as  Tennyson,  Jr.,  took  a  bite  at  the  turtle  instead  of  the 
half-eaten  cake,  and  then,  to  prevent  further  mistakes, 
crammed  the  unhappy  creature  into  a  diminutive  pocket 
in  the  most  business-like  way  imaginable. 

"It  comes  out  of  my  head.  I  make  lots  of  them," 
began  the  imperturbable  one,  yielding  more  and  more  to 
the  social  influences  of  the  hour. 

"Here  are  the  peacocks  coming  to  be  fed,"  inter- 


80  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

rupted  Bab,  as  the  handsome  birds  appeared  with  theii 
splendid  plumage  glittering  in  the  sun. 

Young  Barlow  rose  to  admire ;  but  his  thirst  for 
knowledge  was  not  yet  quenched,  and  he  was  about  to 
request  a  song  from  Juno  and  Jupiter,  when  old  Jack, 
pining  for  society,  put  his  head  over  the  garden  wall 
with  a  tremendous  bray. 

This  unexpected  sound  startled  the  inquiring  stranger 
half  out  of  his  wits  ;  for  a  moment  the  stout  legs  stag- 
gered and  the  solemn  countenance  lost  its  composure, 
as  he  whispered,  with  an  astonished  air,  — 

"  Is  that  the  way  peacocks  scream? " 

The  children  were  in  fits  of  laughter,  and  Miss 
Celia  could  hardly  make  herself  heard  as  she  answered, 
merrily,  — 

"No,  dear;  that  is  the  donkey  asking  you  to  come 
and  see  him  :  will  you  go  ?  " 

"  I  guess  I  couldn't  stop  now.  Mamma  might  want 
me." 

And,  without  another  word,  the  discomfited  poet 
precipitately  retired,  leaving  his  cherished  sticks  behind 
him. 

Ben  ran  after  the  child  to  see  that  he  came  to  no 
harm,  and  presently  returned  to  report  that  Alfred  had 
been  met  by  a  servant,  and  gone  away  chanting  a  new 
verse  of  his  poem,  in  which  peacocks,  donkeys,  and 
H  the  flowers  of  life"  were  sweetly  mingled. 

"Now  I'll  show  you  my  toys,  and  we'll  have  a  little 
play  before  it  gets  too  late  for  Thorny  to  stay  with  us," 
said  Miss  Celia,  as  Randa  carried  away  the  tea-things 
and  brought  back  a  large  tray  full  of  picture-books, 
dissected   maps,   puzzles,  games,   and   several   pretty 


A   HAPPY  TEA.  81 

models  of  animals,  the  whole  crowned  with  a  large 
doll  dressed  as  a  baby. 

At  sight  of  that,  Betty  stretched  ont  her  arms  to 
receive  it  with  a  cry  of  delight.  Bab  seized  the  games, 
and  Ben  was  lost  in  admiration  of  the  little  Arab  chief 
prancing  on  the  white  horse,  "all  saddled  and  bridled 
and  fit  for  the  fight."  Thorny  poked  about  to  find  a 
certain  curious  puzzle  which  he  could  put  together  with- 
out a  mistake  after  long  study.  Even  Sancho  found 
something  to  interest  him  ;  and,  standing  on  his  hind- 
legs,  thrust  his  head  between  the  boys  to  paw  at  several 
red  and  blue  letters  on  square  blocks. 

"He  looks  as  if  he  knew  them,"  said  Thorny, 
amused  at  the  dog's  eager  whine  and  scratch. 

"  He  does.  Spell  your  name,  Sanch  ;  "  and  Ben  put  all 
the  gay  letters  down  upon  the  flags  with  a  chirrup  which 
set  the  dog's  tail  to  wagging  as  he  waited  till  the  alphabet 
was  spread  before  him.  Then,  with  great  deliberation, 
he  pushed  the  letters  about  till  he  had  picked  out  six  ; 
these  he  arranged  with  nose  and  paw  till  the  word 
"Sancho"  lay  before  him  correctly  spelt. 

"Isn't  that  clever?  Can  he  do  any  more?"  cried 
Thorny,  delighted. 

"Lots;  that's  the  way  he  gets  his  living  and  mine 
too,"  answered  Ben  ;  and  proudly  put  his  poodle  through 
his  well-learned  lessons  with  such  success  that  even  Miss 
Celia  was  surprised. 

"  He  has  been  carefully  trained.  Do  you  know  how 
it  was  done?"  she  asked,  when  Sancho  lay  down  to  rest 
and  be  caressed  by  the  children. 

"  No,  'm,  father  did  it  when  I  was  a  little  chap,  and 
never  told  me  how.     I  used  to  help  teach  him  to  dance, 

4*  F 


82  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

and  that  was  easy  enough,  he  is  so  smart.  Father  said 
the  middle  of  the  night  was  the  best  time  to  give  him 
his  lessons  ;  it  was  so  still  then,  and  nothing  disturbed 
Sanch  and  made  him  forget.  I  can't  do  half  the  tricks, 
but  I  'm  goin'  to  learn  when  father  comes  back.  He  'd 
rather  have  me  show  off  Sanch  than  ride,  till  I'm 
older." 

"  I  have  a  charming  book  about  animals,  and  in  it  an 
interesting  account  of  some  trained  poodles  who  could 
do  the  most  wonderful  things.  Would  you  like  to  hear 
it  while  you  put  your  maps  and  puzzles  together?" 
asked  Miss  Celia,  glad  to  keep  her  brother  interested 
in  their  four-footed  guest  at  least. 

"Yes,  'm,  yes, 'm,"  answered  the  children;  and, 
fetching  the  book,  she  read  the  pretty  account,  short- 
ening and  simplifying  it  here  and  there  to  suit  her 
hearers. 

"'I  invited  the  two  dogs  to  dine  and  spend  the 
evening ;  and  they  came  with  their  master,  who  was  a 
Frenchman.  He  had  been  a  teacher  in  a  deaf  and  dum  b 
school,  and  thought  he  would  try  the  same  plan  with 
dogs.  He  had  also  been  a  conjurer,  and  now  was  sup- 
ported by  Blanche  and  her  daughter  Lyda.  These  dogs 
oehaved  at  dinner  just  like  other  dogs  ;  but,  when  I  gave 
Blanche  a  bit  of  cheese  and  asked  if  she  knew  the  word 
for  it,  her  master  said  she  could  spell  it.  So  a  table  was 
arranged  with  a  lamp  on  it,  and  round  the  table  were 
laid  the  letters  of  the  alphabet  painted  on  cards.  Blanche 
sat  in  the  middle,  waiting  till  her  master  told  her  to  spell 
cheese,  which  she  at  once  did  in  French,  —  fromage. 
Theu  she  translated  a  word  for  us  very  cleverly.  Some 
one  wrote  pferd,  the  German  for  horse,   on  a  slate. 


A   HAPPY   TEA.  83 

BlaDche  looked  at  it  and  pretended  to  read  it,  putting 
by  the  slate  with  her  paw  when  she  had  done.  "  Now 
give  us  the  French  for  that  word,"  said  the  man ;  and 
she  instantly  brought  cheval.  "Now,  as  you  are 
at  an  Englishman's  house,  give  it  to  us  in  English ; n 
and  she  brought  me  horse.  Then  we  spelt  some 
words  wrong,  and  she  corrected  them  with  wonderful 
accuracy.  But  she  did  not  seem  to  like  it,  and  whined 
and  growled  and  looked  so  worried,  that  she  was  allowed 
to  go  and  rest  and  eat  cakes  in  a  corner. 

"  l  Then  L}Tda  took  her  place  on  the  table,  and  did 
sums  on  the  slate  with  a  set  of  figures.  Also  mental 
arithmetic,  which  was  very  pretty.  "Now,  Lyda," 
said  her  master,  "I  want  to  see  if  you  understand 
division.  Suppose  }Tou  had  ten  bits  of  sugar,  and  you 
met  ten  Prussian  dogs,  how  many  lumps  would  you,  a 
French  dog,  give  to  each  of  the  Prussians  ?  "  Lyda  very 
decidedly  replied  to  this  with  a  cipher.  "  But,  suppose 
you  divided  your  sugar  with  me,  how  many  lumps  would 
you  give  me  ?  "  Lyda  took  up  the  figure  five  and  politely 
presented  it  to  her  master.' " 

"Wasn't  she  smart?  Sanch  can't  do  that,"  ex- 
claimed Ben,  forced  to  own  that  the  French  doggie 
beat  his  cherished  pet. 

"He  is  not  too  old  to  learn.  Shall  I  go  on?" 
asked  Miss  Celia,  seeing  that  the  boys  liked  it,  though 
Betty  was  absorbed  with  the  doll,  and  Bab  deep  in  a 
puzzle. 

"  Oh,  yes  !     What  else  did  they  do?" 

"  '  They  played  a  game  of  dominoes  together,  sitting 
in  chairs  opposite  each  other,  and  touched  the  dominoes 
that  were  wanted ;  but  the  man  placed  them  and  kept 


84  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

telling  how  the  game  went.  Lyda  was  beaten,  and  hid 
under  the  sofa,  evidently  feeling  very  badly  about  it. 
Blanche  was  then  surrounded  with  playing-cards,  while 
her  master  held  another  pack  and  told  us  to  choose  a 
card ;  then  he  asked  her  what  one  had  been  chosen, 
and  she  always  took  up  the  right  one  in  her  teeth.  I 
was  asked  to  go  into  another  room,  put  a  light  on  the 
floor  with  cards  round  it,  and  leave  the  doors  nearly 
shut.  Then  the  man  begged  some  one  to  whisper  in 
the  dog's  ear  what  card  she  was  to  bring,  and  she 
went  at  once  and  fetched  it,  thus  showing  that  she 
understood  their  names.  Lyda  did  many  tricks  with 
the  numbers,  so  curious  that  no  dog  could  possibly 
understand  them ;  yet  what  the  secret  sign  was  I  could 
not  discover,  but  suppose  it  must  have  been  in  the  tones 
of  the  master's  voice,  for  he  certainly  made  none  with 
either  head  or  hands.' 

"It  took  an  hour  a  day  for  eighteen  months  to 
educate  a  dog  enough  to  appear  in  public,  and  (as 
you  say,  Ben)  the  night  was  the  best  time  to  give  the 
lessons.  Soon  after  this  visit,  the  master  died ;  and 
these  wonderful  dogs  were  sold  because  their  mistress 
did  not  know  how  to  exhibit  them." 

"  Wouldn't  I  have  liked  to  see  'em  and  find  out  how 
they  were  taught !  Sanch,  you  '11  have  to  study  up  lively, 
for  I  'm  not  going  to  have  you  beaten  by  French  dogs," 
said  Ben,  shaking  his  finger  so  sternly  that  Sancho 
grovelled  at  his  feet  and  put  both  paws  over  his  eyea 
in  the  most  abject  manner. 

"  Is  there  a  picture  of  those  smart  little  poodles?  ' 
asked  Ben,  eying  the  book,  which  Miss  Celia  left  open 
before  her. 


A   HAPPY  TEA.  S5 

*'  Not  of  them,  but  of  other  interesting  creatures ; 
also  anecdotes  about  horses,  which  will  please  you,  I 
know,"  and  she  turned  the  pages  for  him,  neither  guess- 
ing how  much  good  Mr.  Hamerton's  charming  ' '  Chapters 
on  Animals  "  were  to  do  the  boy  when  he  needed  com- 
fort for  a  sorrow  which  was  very  near. 


CHAPTER    X. 

A   HEAVY  TROUBLE , 

"  *  I  ^IIANK  you,  ma'am,  that 's  a  tip-top  book, 
■*•  'specially  the  pictures.  But  I  can't  bear  to 
see  these  poor  fellows ; "  and  Ben  brooded  over  the 
fine  etching  of  the  dead  and  dying  horses  on  a  battle- 
field, one  past  all  further  pain,  the  other  helpless,  but 
lifting  his  head  from  his  dead  master  to  neigh  a  farewell 
to  the  comrades  who  go  galloping  away  in  a  cloud  of 
dust. 

"  They  ought  to  stop  for  him,  some  of  'em,"  muttered 
Ben,  hastily  turning  back  to  the  cheerful  picture  of 
the  three  happy  horses  in  the  field,  standing  knee-deep 
among  the  grass  as  they  prepare  to  drink  at  the  wide 
stream. 

"  Ain't  that  black  one  a  beauty?  Seems  as  if  I  could 
see  his  mane  blow  in  the  wind,  and  hear  him  whinn}T  to 
that  small  feller  trotting  down  to  see  if  he  can't  get 
over  and  be  sociable.  How  I  'd  like  to  take  a  rousin' 
run  round  that  meadow  on  the  whole  lot  of  'em  !  "  and 
Ben  swayed  about  in  his  chair  as  if  he  was  already 
doing  it  in  imagination. 

"You  may  take  a  turn  round  my  field  on  Lita  any 
day.     She  would  like  it,  and  Thorny's  saddle  will  be 


A   HE  A  VY  TROUBLE.  87 

here  next  week,"  said  Miss  Celia,  pleased  to  see  that 
the  boy  appreciated  the  fine  pictures,  and  felt  such 
hearty  sympathy  with  the  noble  animals  whom  she 
dearly  loved  herself. 

"Needn't  wait  for  that.  I'd  rather  ride  bare-back. 
Oh,  I  say,  is  this  the  book  you  told  about,  where  the 
horses  talked?"  asked  Ben,  suddenly  recollecting  the 
speech  he  had  puzzled  over  ever  since  he  heard  it. 

"No;  I  brought  the  book,  but  in  the  hurry  of  my 
tea-party  forgot  to  unpack  it.  I  '11  hunt  it  up  to-night. 
Keniind  me,  Thorny." 

"  There,  now,  I've  forgotten  something,  too  !  Squire 
sent  you  a  letter  ;  and  I  'm  having  such  a  jolly  time,  I 
never  thought  of  it." 

Ben  rummaged  out  the  note  with  remorseful  haste, 
protesting  that  he  was  in  no  hurry  for  Mr.  Gulliver,  and 
very  glad  to  save  him  for  another  day. 

Leaving  the  young  folks  busy  with  their  games,  Miss 
Celia  sat  in  the  porch  to  read  her  letters,  for  there  were 
two ;  and  as  she  read  her  face  grew  so  sober,  then  so 
sad,  that  if  any  one  had  been  looking  he  would  have 
wondered  what  bad  news  had  chased  away  the  sunshine 
so  suddenly.  No  one  did  look  ;  no  one  saw  how  pitifully 
her  eyes  rested  on  Ben's  happy  face  when  the  letters 
were  put  away,  and  no  one  minded  the  new  gentleness 
in  her  manner  as  she  came  back  to  the  table.  But  Ben 
thought  there  never  was  so  sweet  a  lady  as  the  one  who 
leaned  o^er  him  to  show  him  how  the  dissected  map 
went  together,  and  never  smiled  at  his  mistakes. 

So  kind,  so  very  kind  was  she  to  them  all,  that  when, 
after  an  hour  of  merry  play,  she  took  her  brother  in 
to  bed,  the  three  who  remained  fell  to  praising  her 


8$  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

enthusiastically  as  they  put  things  to  rights  before  tak- 
ing leave. 

"She's  like  the  good  fairies  in  the  books,  and  has 
all  sorts  of  nice,  pretty  things  in  her  house,"  said 
Betty,  enjoying  a  last  hug  of  the  fascinating  doll  whose 
lids  would  shut  so  that  it  was  a  pleasure  to  sing,  ' '  Bye, 
sweet  baby,  bye,"  with  no  staring  eyes  to  spoil  the 
illusion. 

"  What  heaps  she  knows  !  More  than  Teacher,  I  do 
believe  ;  and  she  doesn't  mind  how  many  questions  we 
ask.  I  like  folks  that  will  tell  me  things,"  added  Bab, 
whose  inquisitive  mind  was  alwa}Ts  hungry. 

"  I  like  that  boy  first-rate,  and  I  guess  he  likes  me, 
though  I  didn't  know  where  Nantucket  ought  to  go. 
He  wants  me  to  teach  him  to  ride  when  he's  on  his 
pins  again,  and  Miss  Celia  says  I  may.  She  knows  how 
to  make  folks  feel  good,  don't  she  ?  "  and  Ben  gratefully 
surveyed  the  Arab  chief,  now  his  own,  though  the  best 
of  all  the  collection. 

"Won't  we  have  splendid  times?  She  says  we 
may  come  over  every  night  and  play  with  her  and 
Thorny." 

"  And  she's  going  to  have  the  seats  in  the  porch  lift 
up,  so  we  can  put  our  things  in  there  all  dry,  and  have 
'em  hand}'." 

"  And  I  'm  going  to  be  her  boy,  and  stay  here  all  the 
time.  I  guess  the  letter  I  brought  was  a  recommend 
from  the  Squire." 

"  Yes,  Ben ;  and  if  I  had  not  already  made  up  my 
mind  to  keep  }tou  before,  I  certainly  would  now,  my 
boy." 

Something  in  Miss  Celia's  voice,  as  she  said  the  last 


A    HEAVY   TROUBLE.  89 

two  words  with  her  hand  on  Ben's  shoulder,  made  him 
look  up  quickly  and  turn  red  with  pleasure,  wondering 
what  the  Squire  had  written  about  him. 

"Mother  must  have  some  of  the  'party;'  so  you 
shall  take  her  these,  Bab,  and  Betty  ma}r  carry  Baby 
home  for  the  night.  She  is  so  nicely  asleep,  it  is  a  pity 
to  wake  her.  Good-by  till  to-morrow,  little  neighbors," 
continued  Miss  Celia,  and  dismissed  the  girls  with  a 
kiss. 

"  Isn't  Ben  coming,  too?  "  asked  Bab,  as  Betty  trotted 
off  in  a  silent  rapture  with  the  big  darling  bobbing  over 
her  shoulder. 

"  Not  yet ;  I've  several  things  to  settle  with  my  new 
man.     Tell  mother  he  will  come  by-and-b}"." 

Off  rushed  Bab  with  the  plateful  of  goodies;  and, 
drawing  Ben  down  beside  her  on  the  wide  step,  Miss 
Celia  took  out  the  letters,  with  a  shadow  creeping  over 
her  face  as  softly  as  the  twilight  was  stealing  over  the 
world,  while  the  dew  fell,  and  every  thing  grew  still  and 
dim. 

"Ben,  dear,  I've  something  to  tell  you,"  she  began, 
slowly ;  and  the  boy  waited  with  a  happy  face,  for  no 
one  had  called  him  so  since  'Melia  died. 

"The  Squire  has  heard  about  your  father,  and  this 
is  the  letter  Mr.  Smithers  sends." 

"Hooray!  where  is  he,  please?"  cried  Ben,  wishing 
she  would  hurry  up ;  for  Miss  Celia  did  not  even  offer 
him  the  letter,  but  sat  looking  down  at  Sancho  on  the 
lower  step,  as  if  she  wanted  him  to  come  and  help  her. 

"  He  went  after  the  mustangs,  and  sent  some  home, 
but  could  not  come  himself." 

"Went  further  on,  I  s'uose.     Yes,  he  said  he  might 


90  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

go  as  far  as  California,  and  if  he  did  he  'd  send  for  me. 
I'd  like  to  go  there;  it's  a  real  splendid  place,  they 
say/' 

"He  has  gone  further  away  than  that,  to  a  lovelier 
country  than  California,  I  hope."  And  Miss  Celia's 
eyes  turned  to  the  deep  sky,  where  early  stars  were 
shining. 

"  Didn't  he  send  for  me  ?  Where  's  he  gone  ?  When 's 
he  coming  back?  "  asked  Ben,  quickly  ;  for  there  was  a 
quiver  in  her  voice,  the  meaning  of  wiich  he  felt  before 
he  understood. 

Miss  Celia  put  her  arms  about  him,  and  answered 
ver}7  tenderly,  — 

"Ben,  dear,  if  I  were  to  toll  }tou  that  he  was  never 
coming  back,  could  you  bear  it  ?  " 

' '  I  guess  I  could,  —  but  you  don't  mean  it  ?  Oh, 
ma'am,  he  isn't  dead?"  cried  Ben,  with  a  cry  that  made 
her  heart  ache,  and  Sancho  leap  up  with  a  bark. 

"My  poor  little  boy,  I  wish  I  could  say  no." 

There  was  no  need  of  any  more  words,  no  need 
of  tears  or  kind  arms  around  him.  He  knew  he  was 
an  orphan  now,  and  turned  instinctively  to  the  old 
friend  who  loved  him  best.  Throwing  himself  down 
beside  his  dog,  Ben  clung  about  the  curty  neck,  sobbing 
bitterly, — 

"Oh,  Sanch,  he's  never  coming  back  again;  never. 
Qever  any  more  !  " 

Poor  Sancho  could  only  whine  and  lick  away  the  tears 

that  wet  the  half-hidden  face,  questioning  the  new  friend 

meantime  with  e}*es  so  full  of  dumb  love  and  sympathy 

and  sorrow  that  they  seemed  almost  human.     Wiping 

wa}'  her  own  tears,  Miss  Celia  stooped  to  pat  the  white 


A    HEAVY   TROUBLE.  91 

head,  and  to  stroke  the  black  one  Vying  so  near  it  that 
the  dog's  breast  was  the  boy's  pillow.  Presently  the 
sobbing  ceased,  and  Ben  whispered,  without  looking 
up,— 

"  Tell  me  all  about  it ;  I'll  be  good." 

Then,  as  kindly  as  she  could,  Miss  Celia  read  the 
brief  letter  which  told  the  hard  news  bluntly ;  for  Mr. 
Smithers  was  obliged  to  confess  that  he  had  known 
the  truth  months  before,  and  never  told  the  boy,  lest 
he  should  be  unfitted  for  the  work  they  gave  him.  Of 
Ben  Brown  the  elder's  death  there  was  little  to  tell, 
except  that  he  was  killed  in  some  wild  place  at  the 
West,  and  a  stranger  wrote  the  fact  to  the  only  person 
whose  name  was  found  in  Ben's  pocket-book.  Mr. 
Smithers  offered  to  take  the  boy  back  and  "  do  well  03' 
him,"  averring  that  the  father  wished  his  son  to  remain 
where  he  left  him,  and  follow  the  profession  to  which 
he  was  trained. 

"Will  you  go,  Ben?"  asked  Miss  Celia,  hoping  to 
distract  his  mind  from  his  grief  by  speaking  of  other 
things. 

kt  No,  no  ;  I  'd  rather  tramp  and  starve.  He 's  awful 
hard  to  me  and  Sanch  ;  and  he  '11  be  worse,  now  father 's 
gone.  Don't  send  me  back  !  Let  me  stay  here  ;  folks 
are  good  to  me  ;  there 's  nowhere  else  to  go."  And  the 
head  Ben  had  lifted  up  with  a  desperate  sort  of  look, 
went  down  again  on  Sancho's  breast  as  if  there  were  no 
other  refuge  left. 

"  You  shall  sta}T  here,  and  no  one  shall  take  }'ou  away 
against  your  will.  I  called  }tou  '  nry  boy'  in  play,  now 
you  shall  be  my  boy  in  earnest ;  this  shall  be  your 
home,   and  Thorny  your  brother.      We  are   orphans, 


92  UJSDER    THE  LILACS. 

too ;  and  we  will  stand  by  one  another  till  a  stronger 
friend  comes  to  help  us,"  cried  Miss  Celia,  with  such  a 
mixture  of  resolution  and  tenderness  in  her  voice,  that 
Ben  felt  comforted  at  once,  and  thanked  her  by  laj'ing 
his  cheek  against  the  pretty  slipper  that  rested  on  the 
step  beside  him,  as  if  he  had  no  words  in  which  to  swear 
loyalty  to  the  gentle  mistress  whom  he  meant  hencefoith 
to  serve  with  grateful  fidelity. 

Sancho  felt  that  he  must  follow  suit ;  and  gravelv 
put  his  paw  upon  her  knee,  with  a  low  whine,  as  if  he 
said,  "  Count  me  in,  and  let  me  help  to  pa}r  my  master's 
debt  if  I  can." 

Miss  Celia  shook  the  offered  paw  cordially,  and  the 
good  creature  crouched  at  her  feet  like  a  small  lion, 
bound  to  guard  her  and  her    house  for  evermore. 

44  Don't  lie  on  that  cold  stone,  Ben  ;  come  here  and 
let  me  try  to  comfort  }Tou,"  she  said,  stooping  to  wipe 
away  the  great  drops  that  kept  rolling  down  the  browu 
cheek  half  hidden  in  her  dress. 

But  Ben  put  his  arm  over  his  face,  and  sobbed  out 
with  a  fresh  burst  of  grief,  — 

"You  an't, — }'Ou  didn't  know  him!  Oh,  dackly! 
daddy !  if  I  'd  only  seen  3-ou  jest  once  more !  " 

No  one  could  grant  that  wish  ;  but  Miss  Celia  did 
comfort  him,  for  presently  the  sound  of  music  floated 
out  from  the  parlor, — music  so  soft,  so  sweet,  that 
involuntarily  the  boy  stopped  his  crying  to  listen  ;  then 
quieter  tears  dropped  slowly,  seeming  to  soothe  his 
pain  as  they  fell,  while  the  sense  of  loneliness  passed 
away,  and  it  grew  possible  to  wait  till  it  was  time  to 
go  to  father  in  that  far-off  country  lovelier  than  golden 
California. 


A    HE  A  VY    TROUBLE.  93 

How  long  she  played  Miss  Celia  never  minded ;  but, 
when  she  stole  out  to  see  if  Ben  had  gone,  she  found 
that  other  friends,  even  kinder  than  herself,  had  taken 
the  boy  into  their  gentle  keeping.  The  wind  had  sung 
a  lullaby  among  the  rustling  lilacs,  the  moon's  mild  face 
looked  through  the  leafy  arch  to  kiss  the  heavy  eyelids, 
and  faithful  Sancho  still  kept  guard  beside  his  little 
master,  who,  with  his  head  pillowed  on  his  arm,  lay  fast 
asleep,  dreaming,  happily,  that  "  Daddy  had  come  home 


CHAPTER   XL 
SUNDAY. 

MRS.  MOSS  woke  Ben  with  a  Mss  next  morning, 
for  her  heart  yearned  over  the  fatherless  lad  as 
if  he  had  been  her  own,  and  she  had  no  other  way  of 
showing  her  sympathy.  Ben  had  forgotten  his  troubles 
in  sleep  ;  but  the  memory  of  them  returned  as  soon  as 
he  opened  his  eyes,  heavy  with  the  tears  the}'  had  shed. 
He  did  not  cry  any  more,  but  felt  strange  and  lonely 
till  he  called  Sancho  and  told  him  all  about  it,  for  he 
was  shy  even  with  kind  Mrs.  Moss,  and  glad  when  she 
went  awa}r. 

Sancho  seemed  to  understand  that  his  master  was  in 
trouble,  and  listened  to  the  sad  little  story  with  gurgles 
of  interest,  whines  of  condolence,  and  intelligent  barks 
whenever  the  word  "daddy"  was  uttered.  He  was 
only  a  brute,  but  his  dumb  affection  comforted  the  boy 
more  than  any  words  ;  for  Sanch  had  known  and  loved 
"  father"  almost  as  long  and  well  as  his  son,  and  that 
seemed  to  draw  them  closely  together,  now  they  were 
left  alone. 

"We  must  put  on  mourning,  old  feller.  It's  the 
proper  thing,  and  there's  nobody  else  to  do  it  now." 
said  Ben,  as  he  dressed,  remembering  how  all  the 
company  wore  bits  of  craue  somewhere  about  them  at 
'Melia's  funeral. 


SUN  DA  Y.  95 

It  was  a  real  sacrifice  of  boyish  vanit}7  to  take  the 
blue  ribbon  with  its  silver  anchors  off  the  new  hat,  and 
replace  it  with  the  clingy  black  band  from  the  old  one ; 
but  Ben  was  quite  sincere  in  doing  this,  though  doubt- 
less his  theatrical  life  made  him  think  of  the  effect  more 
than  other  lads  would  have  done.  He  could  find  nothing 
in  his  limited  wardrobe  with  which  to  decorate  Sanch 
except  a  black  cambric  pocket.  It  was  already  half 
torn  out  of  his  trousers  with  the  weight  of  nails,  peb- 
bles, and  other  light  trifles  ;  so  he  gave  it  a  final  wrench 
and  tied  it  into  the  dog's  collar,  saying  to  himself,  as  he 
put  awaj7  his  treasures,  with  a  sigh,  — 

' '  One  pocket  is  enough  ;  I  sha'n't  want  any  thing  but 
a  han'k'chi'f  to-day." 

Fortunately,  that  article  of  dress  was  clean,  for  he 
had  but  one ;  and,  with  this  somewhat  ostentatiously 
drooping  from  the  solitary  pocket,  the  serious  hat  upon 
his  head,  the  new  shoes  creaking  mournfully,  and  Sanch 
gravely  following,  much  impressed  with  his  black  bow, 
the  chief  mourner  descended,  feeling  that  he  had  done 
his  best  to  show  respect  to  the  dead. 

Mrs.  Moss's  eyes  filled  as  she  saw  the  rusty  band, 
and  guessed  why  it  was  there  ;  but  she  found  it  difficult 
to  repress  a  smile  when  she  beheld  the  cambric  symbol 
of  woe  on  the  dog's  neck.  Not  a  word  was  said  to 
disturb  the  boy's  comfort  in  these  poor  attempts,  how- 
ever ,  and  he  went  out  to  do  his  chores,  conscious  thai 
he  was  an  object  of  interest  to  his  friends,  especially 
so  to  Bab  and  Betty,  who,  having  been  told  of  Ben's 
loss,  now  regarded  him  with  a  sort  of  pitying  awe  very 
grateful  to  his  feelings. 

"  I  want  you  to  drive  me  to  church  by-and-by.     It 


96  UNDER    THE   LILACS. 

is  going  to  be  pretty  warm,  and  Thorny  is  hardly  strong 
enough  to  venture  yet,"  said  Miss  Ceiia,  when  Ben  ran 
over  after  breakfast  to  see  if  she  had  any  thing  for  him 
to  do ;  foi  he  considered  her  his  mistress  now,  though 
he  was  not  to  take  possession  of  his  new  quarters  till 
'he  morrow. 

4  Yes,  'm,  I  'd  like  to,  if  I  look  well  enough, "  an- 
o^ered  Ben,  pleased  to  be  asked,  but  impressed  withJ 
the  idea  that  people  had  to  be  very  fine  on  such  oc- 
casions. 

"You  will  do  very  well  when  I  have  given  you  a 
touch.  God  doesn't  mind  our  clothes,  Ben,  and  the 
poor  are  as  welcome  as  the  rich  to  him.  You  have 
not  been  much,  have  you?"  asked  Miss  Celia,  anxious 
to  help  the  boy,  and  not  quite  sure  how  to  begin. 

"  No,  'm  ;  our  folks  didn't  hardly  ever  go,  and  father 
was  so  tired  he  used  to  rest  Sunda}rs,  or  go  off  in  the 
woods  with  me." 

A  little  quaver  came  into  Ben's  voice  as  he  spoke, 
and  a  sudden  motion  made  his  hat-brim  hide  his  eyes, 
for  the  thought  of  the  happy  times  that  would  never 
come  any  more  was  almost  too  much  for  him. 

"  That  was  a  pleasant  way  to  rest.  I  often  do  so, 
and  we  will  go  to  the  grove  this  afternoon  and  try  it. 
But  I  love  to  go  to  church  in  the  morning  ;  it  seems  to 
start  me  right  for  the  week ;  and  if  one  has  a  sorrow 
that  is  the  place  where  one  can  always  find  comfort 
Will  you  come  and  try  it,  Ben,  dear?" 

"I'd  do  any  thing  to  please  you,"  muttered  Ben, 
without  looking  up ;  for,  though  he  felt  her  kindness 
to  the  bottom  of  his  heart,  he  did  wish  that  no 
one  would  talk  about  father  for  a  little  while  ;   it  was 


SUNDAY.  97 

so  hard  to  keep  from  crying,  and  he  hated  to  be  a 
baby. 

Miss  Celia  seemed  to  understand,  for  the  next  thing 
she  said,  in  a  very  cheerful  tone,  was,  "  See  what  a 
pretty  sight  that  is.  When  I  was  a  little  girl  I  used  to 
think  spiders  spun  cloth  for  the  fairies,  and  spread  it  on 
the  grass  to  bleach." 

Ben  stopped  digging  a  hole  in  the  ground  with  his 
toe,  and  looked  up,  to  see  a  lovely  cobweb  like  a  wheel, 
circle  within  circle,  spun  across  a  corner  of  the  arch 
over  the  gate.  Tiny  drops  glittered  on  every  thread  as 
the  light  shone  through  the  gossamer  curtain,  and  a 
soft  breath  of  air  made  it  tremble  as  if  about  to  blow 
it  away. 

"It's  mighty  pretty,  but  it  will  fly  off,  just  as  the 
others  did.  I  never  saw  such  a  chap  as  that  spider  is. 
He  keeps  on  spinning  a  new  one  every  da}T,  for  they 
always  get  broke,  and  lie  don't  seem  to  be  discouraged 
a  mite,"  said  Ben,  glad  to  change  the  subject,  as  sue 
knew  he  would  be. 

' '  That  is  the  way  he  gets  his  living.  He  spins  his 
web  and  waits  for  his  daily  bread,  —  or  fly,  rather  ;  and 
it  always  comes,  I  fancy.  By-aod-by  you  will  see  that 
pretty  trap  full  of  insects,  and  Mr.  Spider  will  lay  up 
his  provisions  for  the  day.  After  that  he  doesn't  care 
how  soon  his  fine  web  blows  away." 

"  I  know  him  ;  he's  a  handsome  feller,  all  black  and 
yellow,  and  lives  up  in  that  corner  where  the  shiny  sort 
of  hole  is.  He  dives  down  the  minute  I  touch  the  gate, 
but  conies  up  after  1  ve  kept  still  a  minute.  I  like  to 
watch  him.  But  he  must  hate  me,  for  I  took  away  a 
nice  green  fly  and  some  little  millers  one  day." 


98  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

"  Did  jou  ever  hear  the  story  of  Bruce  and  his  spider  r 
Most  children  know  and  like  that,"  said  Miss  Celia, 
seeing  that  he  seemed  interested. 

'  "No/m;  I  don't  know  ever  so  many  things  most 
children  do,"  answered  Ben,  soberty ;  for,  since  he  had 
been  among  his  new  friends,  he  had  often  felt  his  own 
deficiencies. 

"  Ah,  but  you  also  know  maivy  things  which  the}T  do 
not.  Half  the  bovs  in  town  would  "five  a  great  deal  to 
be  able  to  ride  and  run  and  leap  as  you  do ;  and  even 
the  oldest  are  not  as  capable  of  taking  care  of  them- 
selves as  you  are.  Your  active  life  has  done  much  in 
some  ways  to  make  a  man  of  you ;  but  in  other  ways  it 
was  bad,  as  I  think  }'ou  begin  to  see.  Now,  suppose 
you  try  to  forget  the  harmful  part,  and  remember  only 
the  good,  while  learning  to  be  more  like  our  boys,  who 
go  to  school  and  church,  and  lit  themselves  to  become 
industrious,  honest  men." 

Ben  had  been  looking  straight  up  in  Miss  Celia's  face 
as  she  spoke,  feeling  that  every  word  was  true,  though 
he  could  not  have  expressed  it  if  he  had  tried ;  and, 
when  she  paused,  with  her  bright  e}~es  inquiringly  fixed 
on  bis,  he  answered  heartily,  — 

"  I  'd  like  to  stay  here  and  be  respectable  ,  for,  since 
I  came,  I've  found  out  that  folks  don't  think  much  of 
circus  riders,  though  they  like  to  go  and  see  'em.  J 
didn't  use  to  care  about  school  and  such  things,  bul 
I  do  now ;  and  I  guess  he  'd  like  it  better  than  to  have 
me  knockin'  round  that  way  without  him  to  look  after 
me." 

"  I  know  he  would  ;  so  we  will  try,  Benny.  I  dare 
say  it  will  seem  dull  and  hard  at  first,  after  the  gay  sort 


SUNDAY.  99 

of  life  3rou  have  led,  and  you  will  miss  the  excitement. 
But  it  was  not  good  for  }x>u,  and  we  will  do  our  best  to 
find  something  safer.  Don't  be  discouraged  ;  and,  when 
things  trouble  you,  come  to  me  as  Thorny  does,  and  I  '11 
try  to  straighten  them  out  for  }tou.  I've  got  two  boys 
now,  and  I  want  to  do  my  duty  by  both." 

Before  Ben  had  time  for  more  than  a  grateful  look, 
a  tumbled  head  appeared  at  an  upper  window,  and  a 
sleepy  voice  drawled  out,  — 

"  Celia  !  I  can't  find  a  bit  of  a  shoe-string,  and  I  wish 
you  'd  come  and  do  my  neck-tie." 

"  Lazy  bo}r,  come  down  here,  and  bring  one  of  your 
black  ties  with  you.  Shoe-strings  are  in  the  little  brown 
bag  on  my  bureau,"  called  back  Miss  Celia ;  adding, 
with  a  laugh,  as  the  tumbled  head  disappeared  mumbling 
something  about  "  bothering  old  bags,"  — 

"  Thorny  has  been  half  spoiled  since  he  was  ill.  You 
mustn't  mind  his  fidgets  and  dawdling  ways.  He  '11  get 
over  them  soon,  and  then  I  know  you  two  will  be  good 
friends." 

Ben  had  his  doubts  about  that,  but  resolved  to  do  his 
best  for  her  sake ;  so,  when  Master  Thorny  presently 
appeared,  with  a  careless  "How  are  you,  Ben?"  that 
young  person  answered  respectfully,  — 

"Very  well,  thank  you,"  though  his  nod  was  as 
condescending  as  his  new  master's ;  because  he  felt 
that  a  boy  who  could ,  ride  bareback  and  turn  a 
double  somersault  in  the  air  ought  not  to  "  knuckle 
undei"  to  a  fellow  who  had  not  the  strength  of  a 
pussy-cat. 

"  Sailor's  knot,  please  ,  keeps  better  so,"  said  Thorny, 
holding  up  his  chin  to  have  a  blue-silk  scarf  tied  to  suit 


100  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

him,  for  he  was  already  beginning  to  be  something  of 
a  dandy. 

kt  You  ought  to  wear  red  till  you  get  more  color, 
dear;"  and  his  sister  rubbed  her  blooming  cheek 
n gainst  his  pale  one,  as  if  to  lend  him  some  of  her 
nwn  roses. 

k  k  Men  don't  care  how  they  look,"  said  Thorn}',  squirm 
nig  out  of  her  hold,  for  he  hated  to  be  "  cuddled  "  before 
people. 

' '  Oh,  don't  they  ?  Here 's  a  vain  boy  who  brushes 
his  hah'  a  dozen  times  a  day,  and  quiddles  over  his  collar 
till  he  is  so  tired  he  can  hardly  stand,"  laughed  Miss 
Celia,  with  a  little  tweak  of  his  ear. 

M  I  should  like  to  know  what  this  is  for?"  demanded 
Thorny,  in  a  dignified  tone,  presenting  a  black  tie. 

"  For  my  other  boy.    He  is  going  to  church  with  me," 
and  Miss  Celia  tied  a  second  knot  for  this  young  gentle 
man,  with  a  smile  that  seemed  to  brighten  up  even  the 
rusty  hat-band. 

4 '  Well,  I  like  that  —  "  began  Thorny,  in  a  tone  that 
contradicted  his  words. 

A  look  from  his  sister  reminded  him  of  what  she  had 
told  him  half  an  hour  ago,  and  he  stopped  short,  under- 
standing now  why  she  was  "  extra  good  to  the  little 
tramp." 

"  So  do  I,  for  you  are  of  no  use  as  a  driver  yet,  and 
I  don't  like  to  fasten  Lita  when  I  have  my  best  gloves 
on,"  said  Miss  Celia,  in  a  tone  that  rather  nettled  Master 
Thorny. 

' '  Is  Ben  going  to  black  my  boots  before  he  goes  ?  " 
with  a  glance  at  the  new  shoes  which  caused  them  to 
creak  uneasily. 


SUNDAY.  101 

"No  ;  lie  is  going  to  black  mine,  if  he  will  be  so  kind. 
You  won't  need  boots  for  a  week  yet,  so  we  won't  waste 
any  time  over  them.  You  will  find  every  thing  in  the 
shed,  Ben  ;  and  at  ten  you  may  go  for  Lita." 

With  that,  Miss  Celia  walked  her  brother  off  to  the 
dining-room,  and  Ben  retired  to  vent  his  ire  in  such 
energetic  demonstrations  with  the  blacking-brush  that 
the  little  boots  shone  splendidly. 

He  thought  he  had  never  seen  any  thing  as  pretty  as 
bis  mistress  when,  an  hour  later,  she  came  out  of  the 
house  in  her  white  shawl  and  bonnet,  holding  a  book 
and  a  late  liry-of- the- valley  in  the  pearl-colored  gjoves, 
which  he  hardly  dared  to  touch  as  he  helped  her  into 
the  carriage.  He  had  seen  a  good  many  fine  ladies  in 
his  life  ;  and  those  he  had  known  had  been  very  gay  in 
the  colors  of  their  hats  and  gowns,  very  fond  of  cheap 
jewelry,  and  much  given  to  feathers,  lace,  and  furbelows  ; 
so  it  rather  puzzled  him  to  discover  why  Miss  Celia 
looked  so  sweet  and  elegant  in  such  a  simple  suit.  He  did 
not  then  know  that  the  charm  was  in  the  woman,  not  the 
clothes  ;  or  that  merely  living  near  such  a  person  would 
do  more  to  give  him  gentle  manners,  good  principles, 
and  pure  thoughts,  than  almost  any  other  training  he 
could  have  had.  But  he  was  conscious  that  it  was 
pleasant  to  be  there,  neatly  dressed,  ir  good  company, 
and  going  to  church  like  a  respectable  boy.  Somehow, 
the  lonely  feeling  got  better  as  he  rolled  along  between 
green  fields,  with  the  June  sunshine  brightening  every 
thing,  a  restful  quiet  in  the  air,  and  a  friend  beside  him 
who  sat  silently  looking  out  at  the  lovely  world  with 
what  he  afterward  learned  to  call  her  "  Sunday  face." 
—  a  soft,  happy  look,  as  if  all  the  work  and  wearinesti 


102  UNDER  THE  LILACS. 

of  the   past  week  were  forgotten,  and  she  was  ready 
to  begin  afresh  when  this  blessed  day  was  over. 

"Well,  child,  what  is  it?"  she  asked,  catching  his 
eye  as  he  stole  a  shy  glance  at  her,  one  of  many  which 
she  had  not  seen. 

"  I  was  only  thinking  you  looked  as  if —  " 

"As  if  what?  Don't  be  afraid,"  she  said,  for  Ben 
paused  and  fumbled  at  the  reins,  feeling  half  ashamed 
to  tell  his  fancy. 

—  "You  were  s-Tving  prayers,"  he  added,  wishing 
she  had  not  canght  him. 

"  So  I  was.     Don't  you,  when  you  are  happy?" 

"  No,  'm.     I  'm  glad,  but  I  don't  say  any  thing.' 

"  Words  are  not  needed  ;  but  they  help,  sometimes, 
if  they  are  sincere  and  sweet.  Did  you  never  learn 
any  prayers,  Ben?" 

"  Only  'Now  I  la}'  me.'  Grandma  taught  me  that 
when  I  was  a  little  mite  of  a  boy." 

"I  will  teach  you  another,  the  best  that  was  evei 
made,  because  it  sa}Ts  all  we  need  ask." 

"  Our  folks  wasn't  very  pious  ;  they  didn't  have  time, 
I  s'pose." 

"I  wonder  if  you  know  just  what  it  means  to  be 
pious  ?  " 

"  Goin'  to  church,  and  readin'  the  Bible,  and  savin' 
pra}~ers  and  lrymns,  ain't  it?" 

"  Those  things  are  a  part  of  it;  but  being  kind  and 
cheerful,  doing  one's  duty,  helping  others,  and  loving 
God,  is  the  best  way  to  show  that  we  are  pious  in  the 
true  sense  of  the  word." 

"  Then  you  are  !  "  and  Ben  looked  as  if  her  acts  had 
been  a  better  definition  than  her  words. 


SUNDAY  103 

"  I  try  to  be,  but  I  very  often  fail ;  so  every  Sunday 
[  make  new  resolutions,  and  work  hard  to  keep  them 
through  the  week.  That  is  a  great  help,  as  you  will 
find  when  you  begin  to  try  it." 

"Do  you  think  if  I  said  in  meetin',  '  I  wont  evei 
swear  anymore,'  that  I  wouldn't  do  it  again?"  asked 
Ben,  soberly ;  for  that  was  his  besetting  sin  just 
now. 

"I'm  afraid  we  can't  get  rid  of  our  faults  quite  so 
easily ;  I  wish  we  could :  but  I  do  believe  that  if  you 
keep  saying  that,  and  trying  to  stop,  you  will  cure  the 
habit  sooner  than  you  think." 

"  I  never  did  swear  very  bad,  and  I  didn't  mind  much 
till  I  came  here ;  but  Bab  and  Betty  looked  so  scared 
when  I  said  'damn,'  and  Mrs.  Moss  scolded  me  so,  I 
tried  to  leave  off.  It 's  dreadful  hard,  though,  when 
I  get  mad.  '  Hang  it ! '  don't  seem  half  so  good  if  I 
want  to  let  off  steam." 

"Thorny  used  to  'confound!'  every  thing,  so  I 
proposed  that  he  should  whistle  instead ;  and  now  he 
sometimes  pipes  up  so  suddenly  and  shrilly  that  it  makes 
me  jump.  How  would  that  do,  instead  of  swearing?" 
proposed  Miss  Celia,  not  the  least  surprised  at  the  habit 
of  profanity,  which  the  bo}*  could  hardly  help  learning 
among  his  former  associates. 

Ben  laughed,  and  promised  to  tr}T  it,  feeling  a  mis 
chievous  satisfaction  at  the  prospect  of  out-whistling 
Master  Thorny,  as  he  knew  he  should ;  for  the  objec- 
tionable words  rose  to  his  lips  a  dozen  times  a  day. 

The  bell  was  ringing  as  they  drove  into  town ;  and, 
by  the  time  Lita  was  comfortably  settled  in  her  shed, 
people  were  coming  up   from   all   quarters  to  cluster 


104  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

around  the  steps  of  the  old  meeting-house  like  bees 
about  a  hive.  Accustomed  to  a  tent,  where  people 
kept  their  hats  on,  Ben  forgot  all  about  his,  and  was 
going  down  the  aisle  covered,  when  a  gentle  hand  took 
it  off,  and  Miss  Celia  whispered,  as  she  gave  it  to 
him,  — 

"  This  is  a  hoi}'  place  ;  remember  that,  and  uncovei 
at  the  door." 

Much  abashed,  Ben  followed  to  the  pew,  where  the 
Squire  and  his  wife  soon  joined  them. 

"  Glad  to  see  him  here,"  said  the  old  gentleman  with 
an  approving  nod,  as  he  recognized  the  boj  and  re- 
membered his  loss. 

"Hope  he  won't  nestle  round  in  meeting-time," 
whispered  Mrs.  Allen,  composing  herself  in  the  corner 
with  much  rustling  of  black  silk. 

"  I'll  take  care  that  he  doesn't  disturb  you,"  answered 
Miss  Celia,  pushing  a  stool  under  the  short  legs,  and 
drawing  a  palm-leaf  fan  within  reach. 

Ben  gave  an  inward  sigh  at  the  prospect  before  him  ; 
for  an  hour's  captivity  to  an  active  lad  is  hard  to  bear, 
and  he  really  did  want  to  behave  well.  So  he  folded 
his  arms  and  sat  like  a  statue,  with  nothing  moving  but 
his  e}'es.  They  rolled  to  and  fro,  up  and  down,  from 
the  high  red  pulpit  to  the  worn  hymn-books  in  the  rack, 
recognizing  two  little  faces  under  blue-ribboned  hats  in 
a  distant  pew,  and  finding  it  impossible  to  restrain  a 
momentary  twinkle  in  return  for  the  solemn  wink  Billy 
Barton  bestowed  upon  him  across  the  aisle.  Ten  minutes 
of  this  decorous  demeanor  made  it  absolutely  necessary 
for  him  to  stir;  so  he  unfolded  his  arms  and  crossed 
his  legs  as  cautiously  a^  a  mouse  moves  in   the  pres- 


SUNDAY.  105 

ence  of  a  cat ;  for  Mrs.  Allen's  eye  was  on  him, 
and  he  knew  by  experience  that  it  was  a  very  sharp 
one. 

The  music  which  presently  began  was  a  great  relief 
to  him,  for  under  cover  of  it  he  could  wag  his  foot  and 
no  one  heard  the  creak  thereof;  and  when  they  stood 
up  to  sing,  he  was  so  sure  that  all  the  boys  were  looking 
at  him,  he  was  glad  to  sit  down  again.  The  good  old 
minister  read  the  sixteenth  chapter  of  Samuel,  and  then 
proceeded  to  preach  a  long  and  somewhat  dull  sermon. 
Ben  listened  with  all  his  ears,  for  he  was  interested  in 
the  young  shepherd,  "ruddy  and  of  a  beautiful  coun- 
tenance," who  was  chosen  to  be  Saul's  armor-bearer. 
He  wanted  to  hear  more  about  him,  and  how  he  got  on, 
and  whether  the  evil  spirits  troubled  Saul  again  after 
David  had  harped  them  out.  But  nothing  more  came  , 
and  the  old  gentleman  droned  on  about  other  things 
till  poor  Ben  felt  that  he  must  either  go  to  sleep  like 
the  Squire,  or  tip  the  stool  over  by  accident,  since 
"nestling"  was  forbidden,  and  relief  of  some  sort  he 
must  have. 

Mrs.  Allen  gave  him  a  peppermint,  and  he  dutifully 
ate  it,  though  it  was  so  hot  it  made  his  eyes  water. 
Then  she  fanned  him,  to  his  great  annoyance,  for  it 
blew  his  hair  about ;  and  the  pride  of  his  life  was  to 
have  his  head  as  smooth  and  shiny  as  black  satin.  An 
irrepressible  sigh  of  weariness  attracted  Miss  Celia's 
attention  at  last ;  for,  though  she  seemed  to  be  listening 
devoutly,  her  thoughts  had  flown  over  the  sea,  with 
tender  pikers  for  one  whom  she  loved  even  more  than 
David  did  his  Jonathan.  She  guessed  the  trouble  in  a 
minute,  and  had  provided  for  it,  knowing  by  experience 
5* 


106  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

that  few  small  boys  can  keep  quiet  through  sermon 
time.  Finding  a  certain  place  in  the  little  hook  slit 
had  brought,  she  put  it  into  his  hands,  with  the  whis- 
per, "Read  if  you  are  tired.' 

Ben  clutched  the  book  and  gladly  obe}Ted,  though 
the  title,  "  Scripture  Narratives,"  did  not  look  verj 
inviting.  Then  his  eye  fell  on  the  picture  of  a  slendei 
youth  cutting  a  large  man's  head  off,  while  many  people 
stood  looking  on. 

"Jack,  the  giant-killer,"  thought  Ben,  and  turned 
the  page  to  see  the  words  "David  and  Goliath," 
which  was  enough  to  set  him  to  reading  the  story  with 
great  interest ;  for  here  was  the  shepherd  boy  turned 
into  a  hero.  No  more  fidgets  now ;  the  sermon  was  no 
longer  heard,  the  fan  napped  unfelt,  and  Billy  Barton's 
spirited  sketches  in  the  hymn-book  were  vainly  held  up 
for  admiration.  Ben  was  quite  absorbed  in  the  stirring 
histoiy  of  King  David,  told  in  a  way  that  fitted  it  for 
children's  reading,  and  illustrated  with  fine  pictures 
which  charmed  the  bo}T's  eye. 

Sermon  and  stoiy  ended  at  the  same  time  ;  and,  while 
he  listened  to  the  praj'er,  Ben  felt  as  if  he  understood 
now  what  Miss  Celia  meant  b}T  saying  that  words  helped 
when  they  were  well  chosen  and  sincere.  Several  pe- 
titions seemed  as  if  especially  intended  for  him ;  and 
he  repeated  them  to  himself  that  he  might  remember 
Hitin,  the}T  sounded  so  sweet  and  comfortable,  heard  for 
the  first  time  just  when  he  most  needed  comfort.  Miss 
Celia  saw  a  new  expression  in  the  boy's  face  as  she 
glanced  down  at  him,  and  heard  a  little  humming  at  her 
side  when  all  stood  up  to  sing  the  cheerful  hymn  with 
which  they  were  dismissed. 


SUNDAY.  107 

%i  How  do  you.  like  church?"  asked  the  young  lady., 
as  they  drove  away. 

"  First-rate  !  "  answered  Ben,  heartily. 

iC  Especially  the  sermon?  " 

Ben  laughed,  and  said,  with  an  affectionate  glance  at 
the  little  book  in  her  lap,  — 

"  I  couldn't  understand  it ;  but  that  story  was  just 
elegant.  There  's  more ;  and  I  'd  admire  to  read  'em, 
if  I  could." 

"  I'm  glad  3Tou  like  them  ;  and  we  will  keep  the  rest 
for  another  sermon-time.  Thorn}7  used  to  do  so,  and 
always  called  this  his  '  pew  book.'  I  don't  expect  you 
to  understand  much  that  you  hear  yet  awhile  ;  but  it  is 
good  to  be  there,  and  after  reading  these  stories  3-ou 
will  be  more  interested  when  you  hear  the  names  of  the 
people  mentioned  here." 

"  Yes,'m.  Wasn't  David  a  fine  feller?  I  liked  all 
about  the  kid  and  the  corn  and  the  ten  cheeses,  and 
killin'  the  lion  and  bear,  and  slingin'  old  Goliath  dead 
first  shot.  I  want  to  know  about  Joseph  next  time,  for 
I  saw  a  gang  of  robbers  puttin'  him  in  a  hole,  and  it 
looked  real  interesting." 

Miss  Celia  could  not  help  smiling  at  Ben's  way  of 
telling  things ;  but  she  was  pleased  to  see  that  he  was 
attracted  by  the  music  and  the  stories,  and  resolved  to 
make  church-going  so  pleasant  that  he  would  learn 
to  love  it  for  its  own  sake. 

"  Now,  3*ou  have  tried  my  way  this  morning,  and  we 
will  try  3rours  this  afternoon.  Come  over  about  four 
and  help  me  roll  Thorny  down  to  the  grove.  I  am 
going  to  put  one  of  the  hammocks  there,  because 
the  smell  of  the  pines  is  good  for  him,  and  you  can 


108  UNDER    THE   LILACS. 

talk  or  read  or  amuse  yourselves  in  any  quiet  way 
you  like." 

"  Can  I  take  Sanch  along?  He  doesn't  like  to  he  left, 
and  felt  real  bad  because  I  shut  him  up,  for  fear  he  'd 
follow  and  come  walkin'  into  meetin*  to  find  me." 

"  Yes,  indeed  ;  let  the  clever  Bow-wow  have  a  good 
time,  and  enjoy  Sunday  as  much  as  I  want  my  boys 
to." 

Quite  content  with  this  arrangement,  Ben  went  home 
to  dinner,  which  he  made  very  lively  b}^  recounting  Billy 
Barton's  ingenious  devices  to  beguile  the  tedium  of 
sermon-time.  He  said  nothing  of  his  conversation 
with  Miss  Celia,  because  he  had  not  quite  made  up  his 
mind  whether  he  liked  it  or  not ;  it  was  so  new  and 
serious,  he  felt  as  if  he  had  better  lay  it  by,  to  think 
over  a  good  deal  before  he  could  understand  all  about 
it.  But  he  had  time  to  get  dismal  again,  and  long  for 
four  o'clock;  because  he  had  nothing  to  do  except 
whittle.  Mrs.  Moss  went  to  take  a  nap ;  Bab  and 
Betty  sat  demurely  on  their  bench  reading  Sunday 
books ;  no  boys  were  allowed  to  come  and  play ;  even 
the  hens  retired  under  the  currant-bushes,  and  the  cock 
stood  among  them,  clucking  drowsily,  as  if  reading 
them  a  sermon. 

14  Dreadful  slow  day  I "  thought  Ben  ;  and,  retiring  to 
the  recesses  of  his  own  room,  he  read  over  the  two 
letters  which  seemed  already  old  to  him.  Now  that  the 
first  shock  was  over,  he  could  not  make  it  true  that  his 
father  was  dead,  and  he  gave  up  trying  ;  for  he  was  an 
honest  boy,  and  felt  that  it  was  foolish  to  pretend  to  be 
more  unhappy  than  he  really  was.  So  he  put  away  hia 
letters,  took  the   black  pocket  off  Sanch's  neck,  and 


SUNDAY.  109 

allowed  himself  to  whistle  softly  as  he  packed  up  his 
possessions,  ready  to  move  next  day,  with  few  regrets 
and  many  bright  anticipations  for  the  future. 

"  Thorny,  I  want  you  to  be  good  to  Ben,  and  amuse 
him  in  some  quiet  way  this  afternoon.  I  must  stay 
and  see  the  Morris's,  who  are  coming  over ;  but  you 
can  go  to  the  grove  and  have  a  pleasant  time,"  said 
Miss  Celia  to  her  brother. 

' '  Not  much  fun  in  talking  to  that  horsey  fellow.  I  *m 
sorry  for  him,  but  /  can't  do  any  thing  to  amuse  him," 
objected  Thorny,  pulling  himself  up  from  the  sofa  with 
a  great  yawn. 

"  You  can  be  very  agreeable  when  you  like  ;  and  Ben 
has  had  enough  of  me  for  this  time.  To-morrow  he 
will  have  his  work,  and  do  very  well ;  but  we  must  try 
to  help  him  through  to-day,  because  he  doesn't  know 
what  to  do  with  himself.  Besides,  it  is  just  the  time 
to  make  a  good  impression  on  him,  while  grief  for  his 
father  softens  him,  and  gives  us  a  chance.  I  like  him, 
and  I  'm  sure  he  wants  to  do  well ;  so  it  is  our  duty  to 
help  him,  as  there  seems  to  be  no  one  else." 

"  Here  goes,  then  !  Where  is  he  ?  "  and  Thorny  stood 
up,  won  by  his  sister's  sweet  earnestness,  but  very 
doubtful  of  his  own  success  with  the  "  horsey  fellow." 

"Waiting  with  the  chair.  Randa  has  gone  on  with 
the  hammock.  Be  a  dear  boy,  and  I  '11  do  as  much  for 
you  some  day." 

"  Don't  see  how  you  can  be  a  dear  boy.  You  're  the 
best  sister  that  ever  was  ;  so  I  '11  love  all  the  scallywags 
you  ask  me  to." 

With  a  laugh  and  a  kiss,  Thorny  shambled  off  to 
ascend  his  chariot,  good-humoredry  saluting  his  pusher, 


110  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

whom  he  found  sitting  on  the  high  rail  behind,  with  his 
feet  on  Sanch. 

''Drive  on,  Benjamin.  I  don't  know  the  way,  so  T 
can't  direct.  Don't  spill  me  out,  —  that 's  all  I  've  got 
to  sa}\" 

"AH  right,  sir,"  —  and  away  Ben  trundled  down  Uii 
long  walk  that  led  through  the  orchard  to  a  little  gio\  < 
of  seven  pines. 

A  pleasant  spot;  for  a  soft  rustle  filled  the  air,  a 
brown  carpet  of  pine  needles,  with  fallen  cones  for 
a  pattern,  lay  under  foot ;  and  over  the  tops  of  the  tall 
brakes  that  fringed  the  knoll'  one  had  glimpses  of  hill 
and  valley,  farm-houses  and  winding  river,  like  a  silver 
ribbon  through  the  low,  green  meadows. 

"  A  regular  summer  house  !  "  said  Thorny,  surveying 
it  with  approval.  "  What's  the  matter,  Randa?  Won't 
it  go  ? "  he  asked,  as  the  stout  maid  dropped  her  arms 
with  a  puff,  after  vainly  tiying  to  throw  the  hammock 
rope  over  a  branch. 

"  That  end  went  up  beautiful,  but  this  one  won't ;  the 
branches  is  so  high,  I  can't  reach  'em ;  and  I  'm  no 
hand  at  flinging  ropes  round." 

"1*11  fix  it;"  and  Ben  went  up  the  pine  like  a 
squirrel,  tied  a  stout  knot,  and  swung  himself  down 
again  before  Thorny  could  get  out  of  the  chair. 

"  My  patience,  what  a  spry  boy  !  "  exclaimed  Randa, 
admiringly. 

"That's  nothing;  you  ought  to  see  me  shin  up  a 
smooth  tent-pole,"  said  Ben,  rubbing  the  pitch  off  his 
hands,  with  a  boastful  wag  of  the  head. 

"You  can  go,  Randa.  Just  hand  me  my  cushion 
and  books,  Ben  •  then  you  can  sit  in  the  chair  while 


SUNDAY.  Ill 

1  talk  to  you,"  commanded  Thorn}7,  tumbling  into  the 
hammock. 

"What's  he  goin'  to  say  to  me?"  wondered  Ben  to 
himself,  as  he  sat  down  with  Sanch  sprawling  among 
the  wheels. 

"Now,  Ben,  I  think  you'd  better  learn  a  hymn;  I 
always  used  to  when  I  was  a  little  chap,  and  it  is  a  good 
thing  to  do  Sunda}rs,"  began  the  new  teacher,  with  a 
patronizing  air,  which  ruffled  his  pupil  as  much  as  the 
opprobrious  term  "  little  chap." 

"  I  '11  be  —  whew  —  if  I  do  ! "  whistled  Ben,  stopping 
an  oath  just  in  time. 

"  It  is  not  polite  to  whistle  in  company,"  said  Thorny, 
with  great  dignity. 

" Miss  Celia  told  me  to.  I'll  say  'confound  it/  if 
you  like  that  better,"  answered  Ben,  as  a  sly  smile 
twinkled  in  his  eyes. 

"  Oh,  I  see  !  She's  told  you  about  it?  Well,  then, 
if  you  want  to  please  her,  you  '11  learn  a  hymn  right 
off.  Come,  now,  she  wants  me  to  be  clever  to  you, 
and  I  'd  like  to  do  it ;  but  if  you  get  peppery,  how 
can  I?" 

Thorny  spoke  in  a  hearty,  blunt  way,  which  suited 
Ben  much  better  than  the  other,  and  he  responded 
pleasantly,  — 

"  If  you  won't  be  grand  I  won't  be  peppery.  Nobody 
is  going  to  boss  me  but  Miss  Celia  ;  so  I  '11  learn  hymns 
if  she  wants  me  to." 

"  '  In  the  soft  season  of  thy  jouth'  is  a  good  one  to 
begin  with.  I  learned  it  when  I  was  six.  Nice  thing  \ 
better  have  it."  And  Thorny  offered  the  book  like  a 
patriarch  addressing  an  infant. 


112  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

Ben  surveyed  the  yellow  page  with  small  favor,  foi 
the  long  s  in  the  old-fashioned  printing  bewildered  him  ; 
and  when  he  came  to  the  last  two  lines,  he  could  not 
resist  reading  them  wrong,  — 

"  The  earth  affords  no  lovelier  fight 
Than  a  religious  youth." 

"  I  don't  believe  I  could  ever  get  that  into  my  head 
straight.  Haven't  you  got  a  plain  one  any  where 
round?"  he  asked,  turning  over  the  leaves  with  some 
anxiety. 

"  Look  at  the  end,  and  see  if  there  isn't  a  piece  of 
poetry  pasted  in.  You  learn  that,  and  see  how  funny 
Celia  will  look  when  you  say  it  to  her.  She  wrote  it 
when  she  was  a  girl,  and  somebody  had  it  printed  for 
Other  children.     /  like  it  best,  myself." 

Pleased  by  the  prospect  of  a  little  fun  to  cheer  his 
virtuous  task,  Ben  whisked  over  the  leaves,  and  read 
with  interest  the  lines  Miss  Celia  had  written  in  hex 
girlhood :  — 

"MY    KINGDOM. 

"  A  little  kingdom  I  possess, 

Where  thoughts  and  feelings  dwell ; 
And  very  hard  I  find  the  task 

Of  governing  it  well. 
For  passion  tempts  and  troubles  me, 

A  wayward  will  misleads, 
And  selfishness  its  shadow  casts 

On  all  my  words  and  deeds. 

"  How  can  I  learn  to  rule  myself, 
To  be  the  child  I  should,  — 
Honest  and  brave,  —  nor  ever  tire 
Of  trying  to  be  good1? 


SUNDAY.  11 3 

How  can  I  keep  a  sunny  soul 

To  shine  along  life's  way  1 
How  can  I  tune  my  little  heart 

To  sweetly  sing  all  day  1 

"  Dear  Father,  help  me  with  the  love 

That  casteth  out  my  fear ! 
Teach  me  to  lean  on  thee,  and  feel 

That  thou  art  very  near  ; 
That  no  temptation  is  unseen, 

No  childish  grief  too  small, 
Since  Thou,  with  patience  infinite, 

Doth  soothe  and  comfort  all. 

"  I  do  not  ask  for  any  crown, 

But  that  which  all  may  win; 
Nor  seek  to  conquer  any  world 

Except  the  one  within. 
Be  Thou  my  guide  until  I  find, 

Led  by  a  tender  hand, 
Thy  happy  kingdom  in  myself, 

And  dare  to  take  command." 

"  I  like  that !  "  said  Ben,  emphatically,  when  he  had 
read  the  little  hymn.  "  I  understand  it,  and  I  '11  learn 
it  right  away.  Don't  see  how  she  could  make  it  all 
come  out  so  nice  and  pretty." 

"  Celia  can  do  any  thing  !  "  and  Thorny  gave  an  all- 
embracing  wave  of  the  hand,  which  forcibly  expressed 
his  firm  belief  in  his  sister's  boundless  powers. 

"  I  made  some  poetry  once.  Bab  and  Betty  thought 
it  was  first-rate.  /  didn't,"  said  Ben,  moved  to  con- 
fidence by  the  discovery  of  Miss  Celia's  poetic  skill. 

"  Say  it,"  commanded  Thorny,  adding  with  tact, 
"/  can't  make  any  to  save  my  life, — never  could: 
but  i'm  fond  of  it." 


114  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

"  Chevalita, 
Pretty  creter, 
I  do  love  her 
Like  a  brother  ; 
Just  to  ride 
Is  my  delight, 
For  she  does  not 
Kick  or  bite," 

recited  Ben  with  modest  pride,  for  his  first  attempt 
had  been  inspired  by  sincere  affection,  and  pronounced 
"  lovely"  by  the  admiring  girls. 

"  Very  good  !  You  must  say  them  to  Celia,  too.  She 
likes  tc  hear  Lita  praised.  You  and  she  and  that  little 
Barlow  bo}'  ought  to  try  for  a  prize,  as  the  poets  did  in 
Athens.  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it  some  time.  Now, 
you  peg  away  at  your  hymn." 

Cheered  b}*  Thongs  commendation,  Ben  fell  to  work 
at  his  new  task,  squirming  about  in  the  chair  as  if  the 
process  of  getting  words  into  his  memory  was  a  very 
painful  one.  But  he  had  quick  wits,  and  had  often 
learned  comic  songs ;  so  he  soon  was  able  to  repeat 
the  four  verses  without  mistake,  much  to  his  own  and 
Thorny' s  satisfaction. 

' '  Now  we  '11  talk,"  said  the  well-pleased  preceptor  ; 
and  talk  the}T  did,  one  swinging  in  the  hammock,  the 
other  rolling  about  on  the  pine-needles,  as  they  related 
their  experiences  boy-fashion.  Ben's  were  the  most  ex- 
citing ;  but  Thomy's  were  not  without  interest,  for  he 
had  lived  abroad  for  several  }^ears,  and  could  tell  all 
sorts  of  droll  stories  of  the  countries  he  had  seen. 

Busied  with  friends,  Miss  Celia  could  not  help  won- 
dering how  the  lads  got  on ;  and,  when  the  tea-bell 
rang,  waited  a  little  anxiously  for  their  return,  knowing 


SUNDAY.  115 

that  she  could  tell  at  a  glance  if  they  had  enjoyed 
themselves. 

"  All  goes  well  so  far,"  she  thought,  as  she  watched 
their  approach  with  a  smile  ;  for  Sancho  sat  bolt  upright 
in  the  chair  which  Ben  pushed,  while  Thorny  strolled 
beside  him,  leaning  on  a  stout  cane  newly  cut.  Both 
boys  were  talking  busily,  and  Thorny  laughed  from  time 
to  time,  as  if  his  comrade's  chat  was  very  amusing. 

"  See  what  a  jolly  cane  Ben  cut  for  me  !  He  's  great 
fun  if  you  don't  stroke  him  the  wrong  way,"  said  the 
elder  lad,  nourishing  his  staff  as  they  came  up. 

"  What  have  you  been  doing  down  there  ?  You  look 
so  merry,  I  suspect  mischief,"  asked  Miss  Celia,  sur- 
veying them  from  the  steps. 

"We've  been  as  good  as  gold.  I  talked,  and  Ben 
learned  a  hymn  to  please  you.  Come,  young  man, 
say  your  piece,"  said  Thorny,  with  an  expression  of 
virtuous  content. 

Taking  off  his  hat,  Ben  soberly  obeyed,  much  enjoy- 
ing the  quick  color  that  came  up  in  Miss  Celia's  face  as 
she  listened,  and  feeling  as  if  well  repaid  for  the  labor 
of  learning  by  the  pleased  look  with  which  she  said,  as 
he  ended  with  a  bow,  — 

"  I  feel  very  proud  to  think  you  chose  that,  and  to 
hear  you  say  it  as  if  it  meant  something  to  you.  I  was 
only  fourteen  when  I  wrote  it ;  but  it  came  right  out  of 
my  heart,  and  did  me  good.  I  hope  it  may  help  you 
i  little." 

Ben  murmured  that  he  guessed  it  would  ;  but  felt  too 
shy  to  talk  about  such  things  before  Thorny,  so  hastilv 
retired  to  put  the  chair  away,  and  the  others  went  in  to 
Lea.     But  later  in  the  evening,  when  Miss  Celia  was 


116  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

singing  like  a  nightingale,  the  boy  slipped  away  from 
sleepy  Bab  and  Betty  to  stand  by  the  syringa  bush  and 
listen,  with  his  heart  full  of  new  thoughts  and  happy 
feelings ;  for  never  before  had  he  spent  a  Sunday  like 
this.  And  when  he  went  to  bed,  instead  of  saying 
"  Now  I  lay  me,"  he  repeated  the  third  verse  of  Miss 
Celia's  hymn ;  for  that  was  his  favorite,  because  his 
longing  for  the  father  whom  he  had  seen  made  it  seem 
sweet  and  natural  now  to  love  and  lean,  without  fear, 
upon  the  Father  whom  he  had  not  seen. 


CHAPTER    XII. 

GOOD  TIMES. 

EVERY  one  was  very  kind  to  Ben  when  his  loss  was 
known.  The  Squire  wrote  to  Mr.  Sniithers  that 
the  boy  had  found  friends  and  would  stay  where  he  was. 
Mrs.  Moss  consoled  him  in  her  motherly  way,  and  the 
little  girls  did  their  very  best  to  "be  good  to  poor 
Benny."  But  Miss  Celia  was  his  truest  comforter,  and 
completely  won  his  heart,  not  only  by  the  friendly  words 
she  said  and  the  pleasant  things  she  did,  but  b}^  the  un- 
spoken sympathy  which  showed  itself,  just  at  the  right 
minute,  in  a  look,  a  touch,  a  smile,  more  helpful  than 
any  amount  of  condolence.  She  called  him  '»  my  man," 
and  Ben  tried  to  be  one,  bearing  his  trouble  so  bravely 
that  she  respected  him,  although  he  was  only  a  little 
boy,  because  it  promised  well  for  the  future. 

Then  she  was  so  happy  herself,  it  was  impossible  for 
those  about  her  to  be  sad,  and  Ben  soon  grew  cheerfuJ 
again  in  spite  of  the  very  tender  memory  of  his  father 
laid  quietly  away  in  the  safest  corner  of  his  heart.  He 
would  have  been  a  very  unboyish  boy  if  he  had  not  been 
happy,  for  the  new  place  was  such  a  pleasant  one,  he 
soon  felt  as  if,  for  the  first  time,  he  really  had  a  home. 

No  more  grubbing  now,  but  daily  tasks  which  never 
grew  tiresome,  they  were  so  varied  and  so  light.     No 


118  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

more  cross  Pats  to  try  his  temper,  but  the  sweetest 
mistress  that  ever  was,  since  praise  was  oftener  on  heT 
lips  than  blame,  and  gratitude  made  willing  service  a 
delight 

At  first,  it  seemed  as  if  there  was  going  to  be  trouble 
between  the  two  boj's ;  for  Thorny  was  naturally  mas- 
terful, and  illness  had  left  him  weak  and  nervous,  so  he 
was  often  both  domineering  and  petulant.  Ben  had 
been  taught  instant  obedience  to  those  older  than  him- 
self, and  if  Thorny  had  been  a  man  Ben  would  have 
made  no  complaint ;  but  it  was  hard  to  be  "  ordered 
round "  by  a  boy,  and  an  unreasonable  one  into  the 
bargain. 

A  word  from  Miss  Celia  blew  away  the  threatening 
cloud,  however  ;  and  for  her  sake  her  brother  promised 
to  try  to  be  patient ;  for  her  sake  Ben  declared  he  never 
would  "  get  mad  "  if  Mr.  Thonry  did  fidget ;  and  both 
very  soon  forgot  all  about  master  and  man  and  lived 
together  like  two  friendly  lads,  taking  each  other's  ups 
and  downs  good-naturedly,  and  finding  mutual  pleasure 
and  profit  in  the  new  companionship. 

The  only  point  on  which  they  never  could  agree  was 
legs,  and  many  a  heart}T  laugh  did  they  give  Miss  Celia 
by  their  warm  and  serious  discussion  of  this  vexed  ques- 
tion. Thorny  insisted  that  Ben  was  bow-legged ;  Ben 
resented  the  epithet,  and  declared  that  the  legs  of  all 
good  horsemen  must  have  a  slight  curve,  and  any  one 
who  knew  any  thing  about  the  matter  would  acknowl- 
edge both  its  necessity  and  its  beaut}\  Then  Thorny 
would  observe  that  it  might  be  all  very  well  in  the  sad- 
dle, but  it  made  a  man  waddle  like  a  duck  when  afoot  i 
whereat  Ben  would  retort  that,  for  his  part,  he  would 


GOOD    TIMES.  119 

rather  waddle  like  a  duck  than  tumble  about  like  a 
horse  with  the  staggers.  He  had  his  opponent  there, 
for  poor  Thorny  did  look  very  like  a  weak-kneed  colt 
when  he  tried  to  walk  ;  but  he  would  never  own  it,  and 
came  down  upon  Ben  with  crushing  allusions  to  cen- 
taurs, or  the  Greeks  and  Romans,  who  were  famous  both 
for  their  horsemanship  and  fine  limbs.  Ben  could  not 
answer  that,  except  by  proudly  referring  to  the  chariot- 
races  copied  from  the  ancients,  in  which  he  had  borne 
a  part,  which  was  more  than  some  folks  with  long  legs 
could  say.  Gentlemen  never  did  that  sort  of  thing, 
nor  did  they  twit  their  best  friends  with  their  misfor- 
tunes, Thorny  would  remark  ;  casting  a  pensive  glance 
at  his  thin  hands,  longing  the  while  to  give  Ben  a  good 
shaking.  This  hint  would  remind  the  other  of  his  young 
master's  late  sufferings  and  all  he  owed  his  dear  mis- 
tress ;  and  he  usually  ended  the  controversy  by  turning 
a  few  lively  somersaults  as  a  vent  for  his  swelling  wrath, 
and  come  up  with  his  temper  all  right  again.  Or,  if 
Thorny  happened  to  be  in  the  wheeled  chair,  he  would 
trot  him  round  the  garden  at  a  pace  which  nearly  took 
his  breath  away,  thereby  proving  that  if  "bow-legs" 
were  not  beautiful  to  some  benighted  beings  the}T  were 
4 '  good  to  go." 

Thorny  liked  that,  and  would  drop  the  subject  for  the 
time  b}'  politely  introducing  some  more  agreeable  topic ; 
so  the  impending  quarrel  would  end  in  a  laugh  over 
some  boyish  joke,  and  the  word  "  legs"  be  avoided  by 
mutual  consent  till  accident  brought  it  up  again. 

The  spirit  of  rivalry  is  hidden  in  the  best  of  us,  and 
is  a  helpful  and  inspiring  power  if  we  know  how  to  use 
it.     Miss  Celia  knew  this,  and  tried  to  make  the  lada 


120  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

help  one  another  by  means  of  it,  —  not  in  boastful  or 
ungenerous  comparison  of  each  other's  gifts,  but  by 
interchanging  them,  giving  and  taking  freely,  kindly, 
and  being  glad  to  love  what  was  admirable  wherever 
they  found  it.  Thorn}'  admired  Ben's  strength,  activity, 
and  independence  ;  Ben  envied  Thorny's  learning,  good 
manners,  and  comfortable  surroundings ;  and,  when  a 
wise  word  had  set  the  matter  rightly  before  them,  both 
enjoyed  the  feeling  that  there  was  a  certain  equality 
between  them,  since  money  could  not  buy  health,  and 
practical  knowledge  was  as  useful  as  any  that  can  be 
found  in  books.  So  they  interchanged  their  small  ex- 
periences, accomplishments,  and  pleasures,  and  both 
were  the  better,  as  well  as  the  happier,  for  it ;  because 
in  this  way  only  can  we  truly  love  our  neighbor  as  our- 
self,  and  get  the  real  sweetness  out  of  life. 

There  was  no  end  to  the  new  and  pleasant  things 
Ben  had  to  do,  from  keeping  paths  and  flower-beds 
neat,  feeding  the  pets,  and  running  errands,  to  waiting 
on  Thorny  and  being  right-hand  man  to  Miss  Celia. 
He  had  a  little  room  in  the  old  house,  newly  papered 
with  hunting  scenes,  which  he  was  never  tired  of  ad- 
miring. In  the  closet  hung  several  out-grown  suits  of 
Thorny's,  made  over  for  his  valet ;  and,  what  Ben  valued 
infinitely  more,  a  pair  of  boots,  well  blacked  and  ready 
for  grand  occasions,  when  he  rode  abroad,  with  one  old 
spur,  found  in  the  attic,  brightened  up  and  merely  worn 
for  show,  since  nothing  would  have  induced  him  to  prick 
beloved  Lita  with  it. 

Many  pictures,  cut  from  illustrated  papers,  of  races, 
animals,  and  birds,  were  stuck  round  the  room,  giving 
it  rather  the  air  of  a  circus  and  menagerie.     This,  how- 


GOOD   TIMES.  121 

ever,  made  it  only  the  more  home-like  to  its  present 
owner,  who  felt  exceedingly  rich  and  respectable  as  he 
surveyed  his  premises ;  almost  like  a  retired  showman 
who  still  fondly  remembers  past  successes,  though  now 
happy  in  the  more  private  walks  of  life. 

In  one  drawer  of  the  quaint  little  bureau  which  he 
usedv  were  kept  the  relics  of  his  father ;  very  few  and 
poor,  and  of  no  interest  to  any  one  but  himself,  —  only 
Ihe  letter  telhng  of  his  death,  a  worn-out  watch-chain, 
and  a  photograph  of  Senor  Jose  Montebello,  with  his 
youthful  son  standing  on  his  head,  both  airily  attired, 
and  both  smiling  with  the  calmly  superior  expression 
which  gentlemen  of  their  profession  usually  wear  in 
public.  Ben's  other  treasures  had  been  stolen  with  his 
bundle ;  but  these  he  cherished  and  often  looked  at 
when  he  went  to  bed,  wondering  what  heaven  was  like, 
since  it  was  lovelier  than  California,  and  usually  fell 
asleep  with  a  dreamy  impression  that  it  must  be  some- 
thing like  America  when  Columbus  found  it,  —  "  a 
pleasant  land,  where  were  gay  flowers  and  tall  trees, 
with  leaves  and  fruit  such  as  they  had  never  seen 
before."  And  through  this  happy  hunting-ground 
"father"  was  for  ever  riding  on  a  beautiful  white 
horse  with  wings,  like  the  one  of  which  Miss  Celia  had 
a  picture. 

Nice  times  Ben  had  in  his  little  room  poring  over 
his  books,  for  he  soon  had  several  of  his  own;  but 
his  favorites  were  Hamerton's  "Animals"  and  "  Our 
Dumb  Friends,"  both  full  of  interesting  pictures  and 
anecdotes  such  as  boys  love.  Still  nicer  times  work- 
ing about  the  house,  helping  get  things  in  order ;  and 
best  of  all  were  the  daily  drives  with  Miss  Celia  and 


122  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

Thorny,  when  weather  permitted,  or  solitary  rides  to 
town  through  the  heaviest  rain,  for  certain  letters  must 
go  and  come,  no  matter  how  the  elements  raged.  The 
neighbors  soon  got  used  to  the  ' '  antics  of  that  boy," 
but  Ben  knew  that  he  was  an  object  of  interest  as  he 
careered  down  the  main  street  in  a  way  that  made  old 
ladies  cry  out  and  brought  people  flying  to  the  window, 
sure  that  some  one  was  being  run  away  with.  Lita 
enjoyed  the  fun  as  much  as  he,  and  apparently  did  her 
best  to  send  him  heels  over  head,  having  rapidly  learned 
to  understand  the  signs  he  gave  her  by  the  touch  of 
hand  and  foot,  or  the  tones  of  his  voice. 

These  performances  caused  the  boys  to  regard  Ben 
Brown  with  intense  admiration,  the  girls  with  timid 
awe,  all  but  Bab,  who  burned  to  imitate  him,  and  tried 
her  best  whenever  she  got  a  chance,  much  to  the  an- 
guish and  dismay  of  poor  Jack,  for  that  long-suffering 
animal  was  the  only  steed  she  was  allowed  to  ride. 
Fortunately,  neither  she  nor  Betty  had  much  time  for 
play  just  now,  as  school  was  about  to  close  for  the  long 
vacation,  and  all  the  little  people  were  busy  finishing 
up,  that  they  might  go  to  play  with  free  minds.  So  the 
"lilac-parties,"  as  they  called  them,  were  deferred  till 
later,  and  the  lads  amused  themselves  in  their  own  way, 
with  Miss  Celia  to  suggest  and  advise. 

It  took  Thorny  a  long  time  to  arrange  his  possessions, 
for  he  could  only  direct  while  Ben  unpacked,  wondering 
and  admiring  as  he  worked,  because  he  had  never  seen 
so  many  boyish  treasures  before.  The  little  printing- 
press  was  his  especial  delight,  and  leaving  every  thing 
else  in  confusion,  Thorny  taught  him  its  use  and 
planned  a  newspaper  on  the  spot,  with  Ben  for  printer, 


GOOD   TIMES.  123 

himself  for  editor,  and  "Sister"  for  chief  contributor, 
while  Bab  should  be  carrier  and  Betty  office-boy.  Next 
came  a  postage  stamp  book,  and  a  rainy  clay  was  hap- 
pily spent  in  pasting  a  new  collection  where  each  par- 
ticular one  belonged,  with  copious  explanations  from 
Thorny  as  they  went  aloDg.  Ben  did  not  feel  any  great 
interest  in  this  amusement  after  one  trial  of  it,  but 
when  a  book  containing  patterns  of  the  flags  of  all  na- 
tions turned  up,  he  was  seized  with  a  desire  to  copy 
them  all,  so  that  the  house  could  be  fitly  decorated  on 
gala  occasions.  Finding  that  it  amused  her  brother, 
Miss  Celia  generously  opened  her  piece-drawer  and 
rag-bag,  and  as  the  mania  grew  till  her  resources  were 
exhausted,  she  bought  bits  of  gay  cambric  and  many- 
colored  papers,  and  startled  the  store-keeper  by  pur- 
chasing several  bottles  of  mucilage  at  once.  Bab  and 
Betty  were  invited  to  sew  the  bright  strips  or  stars, 
and  pricked  their  little  fingers  assiduously,  finding  this 
sort  of  needle- work  much  more  attractive  than  piecing 
bed-quilts. 

Such  a  snipping  and  pasting,  planning  and  stitching 
as  went  on  in  the  big  back  room,  which  was  given  up 
to  them,  and  such  a  noble  array  of  banners  and  pen- 
nons as  soon  decorated  its  walls,  would  have  caused 
the  dullest  eye  to  brighten  with  amusement,  if  not  with 
admiration.  Of  course,  the  Stars  and  Stripes  hung 
highest,  with  the  English  lion  ramping  on  the  roya3 
standard  close  by ;  then  followed  a  regular  picture- 
gallery,  for  there  was  the  white  elephant  of  Siam,  the 
splendid  peacock  of  Burmah,  the  double-headed  Rus- 
sian eagle,  and  black  dragon  of  China,  the  winged  lion 
of  Venice,  and  the  prancing  pair  on  the  red,  white,  and 


124  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

blue  flag  of  Holland.  The  keys  and  mitre  of  the  Papal 
States  were  a  hard  job,  but  up  they  went  at  last,  with 
the  yellow  crescent  of  Turkey  on  one  side  and  the  red 
full  moon  of  Japan  on  the  other ;  the  pretty  blue  and 
white  flag  of  Greece  hung  below  and  the  cross  of  free 
Switzerland  above.  If  materials  had  held  out,  the 
flags  of  all  the  United  States  would  have  followed  ;  but 
paste  and  patience  were  exhausted,  so  the  busy  workers 
rested  awhile  before  they  *'  flung  their  banner  to  the 
breeze,"  as  the  newspapers  have  it. 

A  spell  of  ship-building  and  rigging  followed  the 
flag  fit ;  for  Thorny,  feeling  too  old  now  for  such  toys, 
made  over  his  whole  fleet  to  "the  children, "  conde- 
scending, however,  to  superintend  a  thorough  repairing 
of  the  same  before  he  disposed  of  all  but  the  big  man- 
of-war,  which  continued  to  ornament  his  own  room, 
with  all  sail  set  and  a  little  red  officer  perpetually  wav- 
ing his  sword  on  the  quarter-deck. 

These  gifts  led  to  out-of-door  water- works,  for  the 
brook  had  to  be  dammed  up,  that  a  shallow  ocean  might 
be  made,  where  Ben's  piratical  "  Red  Rover,''  with  the 
black  flag,  might  chase  and  capture  Bab's  smart  frigate, 
"Queen,"  while  the  "Bounding  Betsey,"  laden  with 
'umber,  safely  sailed  from  Kennebunkport  to  Massa- 
chusetts Bay.  Thorny,  from  his  chair,  was  chief- 
engineer,  and  directed  his  gang  of  one  how  to  dig  the 
basin,  throw  up  the  embankment,  and  finally  let  in  the 
water  till  the  mimic  ocean  was  full  ;  then  regulate 
the  little  water-gate,  lest  it  should  overflow  and  wreck 
the  pretty  squadron  of  ships,  boats,  canoes,  and  rafts, 
which  soon  rode  at  anchor  there. 

Digging  and  paddling  in  mud  and  water  proved  such 


GOOD   TIMES.  125 

a  delightful  pastime  that  the  boys  kept  it  up,  till  a 
series  of  water-wheels,  little  mills  and  cataracts  made 
the  once  quiet  brook  look  as  if  a  manufacturing  town 
was  about  to  spring  up  where  hitherto  minnows  had 
played  in  peace  and  the  retiring  frog  had  chanted  his 
serenade  unmolested. 

Miss  Celia  liked  all  this,  for  any  thing  which  would 
keep  Thorny  happy  out-of-doors  in  the  sweet  June 
weather  found  favor  in  her  eyes,  and  when  the  novelty 
had  worn  off  from  home  affairs,  she  planned  a  series 
of  exploring  expeditions  which  filled  their  boyish  souls 
with  delight.  As  none  of  them  knew  much  about  the 
place,  it  really  was  quite  exciting  to  start  off  on  a 
bright  morning  with  a  roll  of  wraps  and  cushions, 
lunch,  books,  and  drawing  materials  packed  into  the 
phaeton,  and  drive  at  random  about  the  shady  roads 
and  lanes,  pausing  when  and  where  they  liked.  Won- 
derful discoveries  were  made,  pretty  places  were  named, 
plans  were  drawn,  and  all  sorts  of  merry  adventures 
befell  the  pilgrims. 

Each  day  they  camped  in  a  new  spot,  and  while  Lita 
nibbled  the  fresh  grass  at  her  ease,  Miss  Gelia  sketched 
under  the  big  umbrella,  Thorny  read  or  lounged  or  slept 
on  his  rubber  blanket,  and  Ben  made  himself  generally 
useful.  Unloading,  filling  the  artist's  water-bottle,  pil- 
ing the  invalid's  cushions,  setting  out  the  lunch,  run- 
ning to  and  fro  for  a  flower  or  a  butterfly,  climbing  a 
tree  to  report  the  view,  reading,  chatting,  or  frolicking 
with  Sancho,  —  any  sort  of  duty  was  in  Ben's  line,  and 
he  did  them  all  well,  for  an  out-of-door  life  was  natural 
to  him  and  he  liked  it 

"Ben,  I  want  an  axr.anuensis,"  said  Thorny,  drop- 


126  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

ping  book  and  pencil  one  day  after  a  brief  interval  of 
silence,  broken  only  by  the  whisper  of  the  young  leaves 
overhead  and  the  soft  babble  of  the  brook  close  by. 

"A  what?"  asked  Ben,  pushing  back  his  hat  with 
such  an  air  of  amazement  that  Thorny  rather  loftily 
inquired : 

"  Don't  you  know  what  an  amanuensis  is?  " 

"  Well,  no  ;  not  unless  it's  some  relation  to  an  ana- 
conda. Shouldn't  think  you  'd  want  one  of  them,  any- 
way." 

Thorny  rolled  over  with  a  hoot  of  derision,  and  his 
sister,  who  sat  close  by,  sketching  an  old  gate,  looked 
up  to  see  what  was  going  on. 

"Well,  you  needn't  laugh  at  a  feller.  You  didn't 
know  what  a  wombat  was  when  I  asked  you,  and  I 
didn't  roar,"  said  Ben,  giving  his  hat  a  slap,  as  noth- 
ing else  was  handy. 

"  The  idea  of  wanting  an  anaconda  tickled  me  so,  I 
couldn't  help  it.  I  dare  say  you  'd  have  got  me  one  if 
I  had  asked  for  it,  you  are  such  an  obliging  chap." 

* '  Of  course  I  would  if  I  could.  Shouldn't  be  sur- 
prised if  you  did  some  day,  you  want  such  funny 
things,"  answered  Ben,  appeased  by  the  compliment. 

"I'll  try  the  amanuensis  first.  It's  only  some  one 
to  write  for  me  ;  I  get  so  tired  doing  it  without  a  table. 
You  write  well  enough,  and  it  will  be  good  for  you  to 
know  something  about  botany.  I  intend  to  teach  you, 
Ben,"  said  Thorny,  as  if  conferring  a  great  favor. 

"  It  looks  pretty  hard,"  muttered  Ben,  with  a  doleful 
glance  at  the  book  laid  open  upon  a  strew  of  torn  leaves 
and  flowers. 

"  No,  it  isn't ;  it 's  regularly  jolly ;  and  you  'd  be  no 


GOOD   TIMES.  127 

end  of  a  help  if  you  only  knew  a  little.  Now,  suppose 
I  say,  c  Bring  me  a  "  ranunculus  bulbosus,"  '  how  would 
you  know  what  I  wanted  ?  "  demanded  Thorny,  waving 
his  microscope  with  a  learned  air. 

"Shouldn't." 

"  There  are  quantities  of  them  all  round  us ;  and  1 
want  to  analyze  one.     See  if  you  can't  guess." 

Ben  stared  vaguely  from  earth  to  sky,  and  was  about 
to  give  it  up,  when  a  buttercup  fell  at  his  feet,  and  he 
caught  sight  of  Miss  Celia  smiling  at  him  from  behind 
her  brother,  who  did  not  see  the  flower. 

"  S'pose  you  mean  this?  /don't  call  'em  rhinocerus 
bulburses,  so  I  wasn't  sure."  And,  taking  the  hint  as 
quickly  as  it  was  given,  Ben  presented  the  buttercup 
as  if  he  knew  all  about  it. 

"You  guessed  that  remarkably  well.  Now  bring 
me  a  '  leontodon  taraxacum,' "  said  Thorny,  charmed 
with  the  quickness  of  his  pupil,  and  glad  to  display  his 
learning. 

Again  Ben  gazed,  but  the  field  was  full  of  early 
flowers  ;  and,  il  a  long  pencil  had  not  pointed  to  a  dan- 
delion close  by,  he  would  have  been  lost. 

"Here  you  are,  sir,"  he  answered  with  a  chuckle; 
and  Thorny  took  his  turn  at  being  astonished  now. 

"  How  the  dickens  did  you  know  that?  " 

"  Try  it  again,  and  may  be  you'll  find  out,"  laughed 
Ben, 

Diving  hap-hazard  into  his  book,  Thorny  demanded 
a  "  trifolium  pratense." 

The  clever  pencil  pointed,  and  Ben  brought  a  red 
clover,  mightily  enjoying  the  joke,  and  thinking  that 
this  kind  of  botany  wasn't  bad  fun. 


128  UNDER   THE    LILACS. 

"  Look  here,  no  fooling  !  "  and  Thorny  sat  up  to  in 
vestigate  the  matter,  so  quickly  that  his  sister  had  not 
time  to  sober  down.    "  Ah,  I've  caught  you !     Not  fair 
to  tell,  Celia.     Now,  Ben,  you  've  got  to  learn  all  about 
this  buttercup,  to  pay  for  cheating." 

"  Werry  good,  sir ;  bring  on  your  rhinoceriouses," 
answered  Ben,  who  couldn't  help  imitating  his  old  friend 
the  clown  when  he  felt  particularly  jolly. 

"  Sit  there  and  write  what  I  tell  you,"  ordered 
Thorny,  with  all  the  severity  of  a  strict  school- 
master. 

Perching  himself  on  the  mossy  stump,  Ben  obediently 
floundered  through  the  following  analysis,  with  constant 
help  in  the  spelling,  and  much  private  wonder  what 
would  come  of  it :  — 

"  Phsenogamous.  Exogenous.  Angiosperm.  Poly- 
petalous.  Stamens,  more  than  ten.  Stamens  on  the 
receptacle.  Pistils,  more  than  one  and  separate.  Leaves 
without  stipules.  Crowfoot  family.  Genus  ranunculus. 
Botanical  name,  Ranunculus  bulbosus." 

"  Jerusalem  !  what  a  flower  !  Pistols  and  crows'  feet, 
and  Polly  put  the  kettles  on,  and  Angy  sperms  and  all 
the  rest  of  'em  !  If  that 's  your  botany,  I  won't  take 
any  more,  thank  you,"  said  Ben,  as  he  paused  as  hot 
and  red  as  if  he  had  been  running  a  race. 

"  Yes,  you  will;  you'll  learn  that  all  by  heart,  and 
then  I  shall  give  you  a  dandelion  to  do.  You'll  like 
that,  because  it  means  dent  de  lion,  or  lion's  tooth  ;  and 
I  '11  show  them  to  you  through  my  glass.  You  've  no 
idea  how  interesting  it  is,  and  what  heaps  of  pretty 
things  }tou  '11  see,"  answered  Thorny,  who  had  already 
discovered  how  charming  the  study  was,  and  had  found 


GOOD   TIMES.  129 

great  satisfaction  in  it,  since  he  had  been  forbidden 
more  active  pleasures. 

"What's  the  good  of  it,  any  way?"  asked  Ben,  who 
would  rather  have  been  set  to  mowing  the  big  field  than 
to  the  task  before  him. 

"It  tells  all  about  it  in  my  book  here,  —  'Gray's 
Botany  for  Young  People.'  But  I  can  tell  you  what  use 
it  is  to  us"  continued  Thorny,  crossing  his  legs  in  the  aii 
and  preparing  to  argue  the  matter,  comfortably  lying  flat 
on  his  back.  "  We  are  a  Scientific  Exploration  Society, 
and  we  must  keep  an  account  of  all  the  plants,  animals, 
minerals,  and  so  on,  as  we  come  across  them.  Then,  sup- 
pose we  get  lost,  and  have  to  hunt  for  food,  how  are  we  to 
know  what  is  safe  and  what  isn't  ?  Come,  now,  do  you  know 
the  difference  between  a  toadstool  and  a  mushroom  ?  " 

"No,  I  don't." 

"  Then  I'll  teach  you  some  day.  There  is  sweet  flag 
and  poisonous  flag,  and  all  sorts  of  berries  and  things ; 
and  you  'd  better  look  out  when  }tou  are  in  the  woods, 
or  you'll  touch  ivy  and  dogwood,  and  have  a  horrid 
time,  if  you  don't  know  your  botany." 

"Thorny  learned  much  of  his  by  sad  experience; 
and  you  will  be  wise  to  take  his  advice,"  said  Miss 
Celia,  recalling  her  brother's  various  mishaps  before 
the  new  fancy  came  on. 

"  Didn't  I  have  a  time  of  it,  though,  when  I  had  to 
go  round  for  a  week  with  plantain  leaves  and  cream 
stuck  all  over  my  face !  Just  picked  some  pretty  red 
dogwood,  Ben  ■  and  then  I  was  a  regular  guy,  with  a 
face  like  a  lobster,  and  my  eyes  swelled  out  of  sight. 
Come  along,  and  learn  right  away,  and  never  get  into 
scrapes  like  most  fellows." 


180  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

Impressed  by  this  warning,  and  attracted  by  Thorny' s 
enthusiasm,  Ben  cast  himself  down  upon  the  blanket, 
and  for  an  hour  the  two  heads  bobbed  to  and  fro,  from 
microscope  to  book,  the  teacher  airing  his  small  knowl- 
edge, the  pupil  more  and  more  interested  in  the  new  and 
curious  things  he  saw  or  heard,  —  though  it  must  be 
confessed  that  Ben  infinitely  preferred  to  watch  ants 
and  bugs,  queer  little  worms  and  gauzy- winged  flies, 
rather  than  "  putter"  over  plants  with  long  names.  He 
did  not  dare  to  say  so,  however ;  but,  when  Thorny 
asked  him  if  it  wasn't  capital  fun,  he  dodged  cleverly 
by  proposing  to  hunt  up  the  flowers  for  his  master  to 
study,  offering  to  learn  about  the  dangerous  ones,  but 
pleading  want  of  time  to  investigate  this  pleasing  science 
very  deeply. 

As  Thorny  had  talked  himself  hoarse,  he  was  very 
ready  to  dismiss  his  class  of  one  to  fish  the  milk-bottle 
out  of  the  brook ;  and  recess  was  prolonged  till  next 
day.  But  both  bo}Ts  found  a  new  pleasure  in  the  pretty 
pastime  they  made  of  it ;  for  active  Ben  ranged  the 
woods  and  fields  with  a  tin  box  slung  over  his  shoulder, 
and  feeble  Thorny  had  a  little  room  fitted  up  for  his 
own  use,  where  he  pressed  flowers  in  newspaper  books, 
dried  herbs  on  the  walls,  had  bottles  and  cups,  pans  and 
platters,  for  his  treasures,  and  made  as  much  litter  as 
he  liked. 

Presently,  Ben  brought  such  lively  accounts  of  the 
green  nooks  where  jacks-in-the-pulpit  preached  their 
little  sermons ;  brooks,  beside  which  grew  blue  violets 
and  lovely  ferns ;  rocks,  round  which  danced  the  col- 
umbines like  rosy  elves,  or  the  trees  where  birds  built, 
squirrels   chattered,   and   woodchucks  burrowed,   that 


GOOD   TIMES.  131 

Thorny  was  seized  with  a  desire  to  go  and  see  these 
beauties  for  himself.  So  Jack  was  saddled,  and  went 
plodding,  scrambling,  and  wandering  into  all  manner 
of  pleasant  places,  alwa}Ts  bringing  home  a  stronger, 
browner  rider  than  he  carried  away. 

This  delighted  Miss  Celia  ;  and  she  gladly  saw  them 
ramble  oif  together,  leaving  her  time  to  stitch  happily 
at  certain  dainty  bits  of  sewing,  write  voluminous  letters, 
or  dream  over  others  quite  as  long,  swinging  in  hei 
hammock  under  the  lilacs. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

SOMEBODY  RUNS  A  WAT 

"  School  is  done, 
Now  we  '11  have  f un," 

SUNG  Bab  and  Betty,  slamming  down  their  books 
as  if  they  never  meant  to  take  them  up  again, 
when  they  came  home  on  the  last  day  of  June. 

Tired  teacher  had  dismissed  them  for  eight  whole 
weeks,  and  gone  away  to  rest ;  the  little  schoolhouse 
was  shut  up,  lessons  were  over,  spirits  rising  fast,  and 
vacation  had  begun.  The  quiet  town  seemed  suddenly 
inundated  with  children,  all  in  such  a  rampant  state 
that  busy  mothers  wondered  how  they  ever  should  be 
able  to  keep  their  frisky  darlings  out  of  mischief;  thrifty 
fathers  planned  how  they  could  bribe  the  idle  hands  to 
pick  berries  or  rake  hay  ;  and  the  old  folks,  while  wish- 
ing the  young  folks  well,  secretly  blessed  the  man  who 
invented  schools. 

The  girls  immediately  began  to  talk  about  picnics, 
and  have  them,  too ;  for  little  hats  sprung  up  in  the 
fields  like  a  new  sort  of  mushroom,  —  every  hillside 
bloomed  with  gay  gowns,  looking  as  if  the  flowers  had 
gone  out  for  a  walk  ;  and  the  woods  were  full  of  feath- 
erless  birds  chirping  away  as  blithely  as  the  thrushes, 
robins,  and  wrens. 


SOMEBODY  RUNS  AWAY.  133 

The  boys  took  to  base-ball  like  ducks  to  water ;  and 
the  common  was  the  scene  of  tremendous  battles,  waged 
with  much  tumult,  but  little  bloodshed.  To  the  un- 
initiated, it  appeared  as  if  these  young  men  had  lost  their 
wits  ;.  for,  no  matter  how  warm  it  was,  there  they  were, 
teanug  about  in  the  maddest  manner,  jackets  off,  sleeves 
rolled  up,  queer  caps  flung  on  any  way,  all  batting 
shabby  leather  balls,  and  catching  the  same,  as  if  their 
lives  depended  on  it.  Every  one  talking  in  his  gruff- 
est tone,  bawling  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  squabbling 
over  every  point  of  the  game,  and  seeming  to  enjoy 
himself  immensely,  in  spite  of  the  heat,  dust,  up- 
roar, and  imminent  danger  of  getting  eyes  or  teeth 
knocked  out. 

Thorny  was  an  excellent  player,  but,  not  being  strong 
enough  to  show  his  prowess,  he  made  Ben  his  proxy ; 
and,  sitting  on  the  fence,  acted  as  umpire  to  his  heart's 
content.  Ben  was  a  promising  pupil,  and  made  rapid 
progress ;  for  eye,  foot,  and  hand  had  been  so  well 
trained,  that  they  did  him  good  service  now  ;  and  Brown 
was  considered  a  first-rate  "  catcher." 

Sancho  distinguished  himself  by  his  skill  in  hunting 
up  stray  balls,  and  guarding  jackets  when  not  needed, 
with  the  air  of  one  of  the  Old  Guard  on  duty  at  the 
tomb  of  Napoleon.  Bab  also  longed  to  join  in  the  fun, 
which  suited  her  better  than  ' '  stupid  picnics  "or  "  fuss- 
ing over  dolls ; "  but  her  heroes  would  not  have  her 
at  any  price  ;  and  she  was  obliged  to  content  herself 
with  sitting  by  Thorny,  and  watching  with  breathless 
interest  the  varying  fortunes  of  "  our  side." 

A  grand  match  was  planned  for  the  Fourth  of  July ; 
but  when  the  club  met,  things  were  found  to  be  unpro- 


131  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

pitious.  Thorny  had  gone  out  of  town  with  his  sister 
to  pass  the  day,  two  of  the  best  players  did  not  appear, 
and  the  others  were  somewhat  exhausted  by  the  fes- 
tivities, which  began  at  sunrise  for  them.  So  they  lay 
about  on  the  grass  in  the  shade  of  the  big  elm,  languidly 
discussing  their  various  wrongs  and  disappointments. 

1  'It's  the  meanest  Fourth  I  ever  saw.  Can't  have 
no  crackers,  because  somebody's  horse  got  scared  last 
year,"  growled  Sam  Kitteridge,  bitterly  resenting  the 
stern  edict  which  forbade  free-born  citizens  to  burn  as 
much  gunpowder  as  they  liked  on  that  glorious  day. 

"  Last  year  Jimmy  got  his  arm  blown  off  when  they 
fired  the  old  cannon.  Didn't  we  have  a  lively  time 
going  for  the  doctors  and  getting  him  home?"  asked 
another  boy,  looking  as  if  he  felt  defrauded  of  the 
most  interesting  part  of  the  anniversary,  because  no 
accident  had  occurred. 

' '  Ain't  going  to  be  fireworks  either,  unless  some- 
body's barn  bums  up.  Don't  I  just  wish  there  would," 
gloomily  responded  another  youth  who  had  so  rashly 
indulged  in  pyrotechnics  on  a  former  occasion  that  a 
neighbor's  cow  had  been  roasted  whole. 

"  I  wouldn't  give  two  cents  for  such  a  slow  old  place 
as  this.  Why,  last  Fourth  at  this  time,  I  was  rumbling 
through  Boston  streets  up  top  of  our  big  car,  all  in  my 
best  toggery.  Hot  as  pepper,  but  good  fun  looking  in 
at  the  upper  windows  and  hearing  the  women  scream 
when  the  old  thing  waggled  round  and  I  made  believe 
I  was  going  to  tumble  off,"  said  Ben,  leaning  on  his 
bat  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  had  seen  the  world  and 
felt  some  natural  regret  at  descending  from  so  lofty  a 
sphere 


SOMEBODY  BUNS  AWAY.  136 

"  Catch  me  cutting  away  if  I  had  such  a  chance 
as  that !  "  answered  Sam,  trying  to  balance  his  bat  on 
his  chin  and  getting  a  smart  rap  across  the  nose  as  he 
failed  to  perform  the  feat. 

"Much  you  know  about  it,  old  chap.  It's  hard 
work,  I  can  tell  you,  and  that  wouldn't  suit  such  a 
lazj^-bones.  Then  you  are  too  big  to  begin,  though  you 
might  do  for  a  fat  boy  if  Smithers  wanted  one,"  said 
Ben,  surveying  the  stout  youth  with  calm  contempt. 

"  Let's  go  in  swimming,  not  loaf  round  here,  if  we 
can't  play,"  proposed  a  red  and  shiny  boy,  panting  for 
a  game  of  leap-frog  in  Sandy  pond. 

"  May  as  well ;  don't  see  much  else  to  do,"  sighed 
Sam,  rising  like  a  young  elephant. 

The  others  were  about  to  follow,  when  a  shrill  "Hi, 
hi,  boys,  hold  on  ■!  "  made  them  turn  about  to  behold 
Billy  Barton  tearing  down  the  street  like  a  runaway 
colt,  waving  a  long  strip  of  paper  as  he  ran. 

"Now,  then,  what's  the  matter?"  demanded  Ben, 
as  the  other  came  up  grinning  and  puffing,  but  full  of 
great  news. 

"Look  here,  read  it!  I'm  going;  come  along,  the 
whole  of  you,"  panted  Billy,  putting  the  paper  into 
Sam's  hand,  and  surveying  the  crowd  with  a  face  as 
beaming  as  a  full  moon. 

"Look  out  for  the  big  show,"  read  Sam.  "Van 
Amburgh  &  Co.'s  New  Great  Golden  Menagerie,  Cir- 
cus and  Colosseum,  will  exhibit  at  Berry ville,  July  4th, 
at  1  and  7  precisely.  Admission  50  cents,  children 
half-price.  Don't  forget  day  and  date.  H.  Frost, 
Manager." 

While  Sam  read,  the  other  boys  had  been  gloating 


136  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

over  the  enticing  pictures  which  covered  the  bill. 
There  was  the  golden  car,  filled  with  noble  beings  in 
helmets,  all  placing  on  immense  trumpets  ;  the  twenty- 
four  prancing  steeds  with  manes,  tails,  and  feathered 
heads  tossing  in  the  breeze ;  the  clowns,  the  tumblers, 
the  strong  men,  and  the  riders  flying  about  in  the  air 
as  if  the  laws  of  gravitation  no  longer  existed.  But, 
best  of  all,  was  the  grand  conglomeration  of  animals 
where  the  giraffe  appears  to  stand  on  the  elephant's 
back,  the  zebra  to  be  jumping  over  the  seal,  the  hippo- 
potamus to  be  lunching  off  a  couple  of  crocodiles,  and 
lions  and  tigers  to  be  raining  down  in  all  directions 
with  their  mouths  wide  open  and  their  tails  as  stiff  as 
that  of  the  famous  Northumberland  House  Hon. 

"Cricky!  wouldn't  I  like  to  see  that,"  said  little 
Cyrus  Fay,  devoutly  hoping  that  the  cage,  in  which 
this  pleasing  spectacle  took  place,  was  a  very  strong 
one. 

"  You  never  would,  it's  only  a  picture  !  That,  now, 
is  something  like,"  and  Ben,  who  had  pricked  up  his 
ears  at  the  word  "  circus,"  laid  his  finger  on  a  smaller 
cut  of  a  man  hanging  by  the  back  of  his  neck  with  a 
child  in  each  hand,  two  men  suspended  from  his  feet, 
and  the  third  swinging  forward  to  alight  on  his  head. 

"I'm  going,"  said  Sam,  with  calm  decision,  for  this 
superb  arra}~  of  unknown  pleasures  fired  his  soul  and 
made  him  forget  his  weight. 

"How  will  you  fix  it?"  asked  Ben,  fingering  the 
bill  with  a  nervous  thrill  all  through  his  wiry  limbs,  just 
as  he  used  to  feel  it  when  his  father  caught  him  up  to 
dash  into  the  ring. 

"Foot  it  with    Billy.      It's   only   foul   miles,  and 


SOMEBODY  RUNS  AWAY.  137 

we  've  got  lots  of  time,  so  we  can  take  it  easy.  Mother 
won't  care,  if  I  send  word  by  Cy,"  answered  Sam,  pro- 
ducing half  a  dollar,  as  if  such  magnificent  sums  were 
no  strangers  to  his  pocket. 

"Come  on,  Brown;  you'll  be  a  first-rate  fellow  to 
show  us  round,  as  you  know  all  the  dodges,"  said  Billy, 
anxious  to  get  his  money's  worth. 

"Well,  I  don't  know,"  began  Ben,  longing  to  go, 
but  afraid  Mrs.  Moss  would  say  "No!"  if  he  asked 
leave. 

"He's  afraid,"  sneered  the  red-faced  boy,  who  felt 
bitterly  toward  all  mankind  at  that  instant,  because  he 
knew  there  was  no  hope  of  Ms  going. 

"  Say  that  again,  and  I'll  knock  your  head  off,"  and 
Ben  faced  round  with  a  gesture  which  caused  the  other 
to  skip  out  of  reach  precipitately. 

"Hasn't  got  any  money,  more  likely,"  observed  a 
shabby  youth,  whose  pockets  never  had  any  thing  in 
them  but  a  pair  of  dirty  hands. 

Ben  calmly  produced  a  dollar  bill  and  waved  it  defi- 
antly before  this  doubter,  observing  with  dignity : 

"I've  got  money  enough  to  treat  the  whole  crowd, 
if  I  choose  to,  which  I  don't." 

"Then  come  along  and  have  a  jolly  time  with  Sam 
and  me.  We  can  buy  some  dinner  and  get  a  ride  home, 
as  like  as  not,"  said  the  amiable  Billy,  with  a  slap  or 
the  shoulder,  and  a  cordial  grin  which  made  it  impossi 
ble  for  Ben  to  resist. 

"What  are  you  stopping  for?"  demanded  Sam, 
ready  to  be  off,  that  they  might  "take  it  easy." 

"Don't  know  what  to  do  with  Sancho.  He'll  get 
lost  or  stolen  if  I  take  him,  and  it 's  too  far  to  carry 


138  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

him  home  if  you  are  in  a  hurry,"  began  Ben,  persuad- 
ing himself  that  this  was  the  true  reason  of  his 
delay. 

"Let  Cy  take  him  back.  He'll  do  it  for  a  cent; 
won't  you,  Cy?"  proposed  Billy,  smoothing  away  all 
objections,  for  he  liked  Ben,  and  saw  that  he  wanted 
to  go. 

"No,  I  won't;  I  don't  like  him.  He  winks  at  me, 
and  growls  when  I  touch  him,"  muttered  naughty  Cy, 
remembering  how  much  reason  poor  Sanch  had  to  dis- 
trust his  tormentor. 

"There's  Bab;  she'll  do  it.  Come  here,  sissy; 
Ben  wants  you,"  called  Sam,  beckoning  to  a  small 
figure  just  perching  on  the  fence. 

Down  it  jumped  and  came  fluttering  up,  much  elated 
at  being  summoned  by  the  captain  of  the  sacred  nine. 

"I  want  you  to  take  Sanch  home,  and  tell  your 
mother  I  'm  going  to  walk,  and  may  be  won't  be  back 
till  sundown.  Miss  Celia  said  I  might  do  what  I  pleased, 
all  day.     You  remember,  now." 

Ben  spoke  without  looking  up,  and  affected  to  be 
very  busy  buckling  a  strap  into  Sanch's  collar,  for  the 
two  were  so  seldom  parted  that  the  dog  always  rebelled. 
It  was  a  mistake  on  Ben's  part,  for  while  his  eyes  were 
on  his  work  Bab's  were  devouring  the  bill  which  Sam 
still  held,  and  her  suspicions  were  aroused  by  the  boys' 
faces. 

"Where  are  you  going?  Ma  will  want  to  know," 
she  said,  as  curious  as  a  magpie  all  at  once. 

"Never  you  mind;  girls  can't  know  every  thing. 
You  just  catch  hold  of  this  and  run  along  home.  Lock 
Sanch  un  for  an  hour,  and  tell  your  mother  I'm  all 


SOMEBODY  RUNS  AWAY.  139 

right,"  answered  Ben,  bound  to  assert  his  manly  su- 
premacy before  his  mates. 

"He's  going  to  the  circus,"  whispered  Fay,  hoping 
to  make  mischief. 

"  Circus  !  Oh,  Ben,  do  take  me  ! "  cried  Bab,  falling 
into  a  state  of  great  excitement  at  the  mere  thought  of 
such  delight. 

"  You  couldn't  walk  four  miles,"  began  Ben. 

"  Yes,  I  could,  as  easy  as  not." 

"  You  haven't  got  any  money." 

1 1  You  have  ;  I  saw  you  showing  your  dollar,  and  you 
could  pay  for  me,  and  Ma  would  pay  it  back." 

"  Can't  wait  for  you  to  get  ready." 

"I'll  go  as  I  am.  I  don't  care  if  it  is  my  old  hat," 
and  Bab  jerked  it  on  to  her  head. 

"  Your  mother  wouldn't  like  it." 

"  She  won't  like  your  going,  either." 

"She  isn't  my  missis  now.  Miss  Celia  wouldnt 
care,  and  I'm  going,  any  way." 

"  Do,  do  take  me,  Ben !  I  '11  be  just  as  good  as  ever 
was,  and  I  '11  take  care  of  Sanch  all  the  way,"  pleaded 
Bab,  clasping  her  hands  and  looking  round  for  some 
sign  of  relenting  in  the  faces  of  the  boys. 

"  Don't  you  bother  ;  we  don't  want  any  girls  tagging 
after  us,"  said  Sam,  walking  off  to  escape  the  annoy- 
ance. 

"I'll  bring  you  a  roll  of  chickerberry  lozengers,  if 
you  won't  tease,"  whispered  kind-hearted  Billy,  with  a 
consoling  pat  on  the  crown  of  the  shabby  straw  hat. 

"When  the  circus  comes  here  you  shall  go,  certain 
sure,  and  Betty  too,"  said  Ben,  feeling  mean  while  he 
proposed  what  he  knew  was  a  hollow  mockery. 


140  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

"  They  never  do  come  to  such  little  towns  ;  you  said 
so,  and  I  think  you  are  very  cross,  and  J  won't  take  care 
of  Sanch,  so,  now  ! "  cried  Bab,  getting  into  a  passion, 
yet  ready  to  cry,  she  was  so  disappointed. 

"I  suppose  it  wouldn't  do  — "  hinted  Billy  with  a 
look  from  Ben  to  the  little  girl,  who  stood  winking  hard 
to  keep  the  tears  back. 

"  Of  course  it  wouldn't.  I'd  like  to  see  her  walking 
eight  miles.  I  don't  mind  paying  for  her ;  it 's  getting 
her  there  and  back.  Girls  are  such  a  bother  when 
you  want  to  knock  round.  No,  Bab,  you  can't  go. 
Travel  right  home  and  don't  make  a  fuss.  Come  along, 
boys ;  it 's  most  eleven,  and  we  don't  want  to  walk 
fast." 

Ben  spoke  very  decidedly ;  and,  taking  Billy's  arm, 
away  they  went,  leaving  poor  Bab  and  Sanch  to  watch 
them  out  of  sight,  one  sobbing,  the  other  whining  dis- 
mally. 

Somehow  those  two  figures  seemed  to  go  before  Ben 
all  along  the  pleasant  road,  and  half  spoilt  his  fun  ;  for 
though  he  laughed  and  talked,  cut  canes,  and  seemed 
as  merry  as  a  grig,  he  could  not  help  feeling  that  he 
ought  to  have  asked  leave  to  go,  and  been  kinder  to 
Bab. 

"  Perhaps  Mrs.  Moss  would  have  planned  somehow 
bo  we  could  all  go,  if  I'd  told  her.  I'd  like  to  show 
her  rouud,  and  she's  been  real  good  to  me.  No  use 
now.  I  '11  take  the  girls  a  lot  of  candy  and  make  it  all 
right." 

He  tried  to  settle  it  in  that  way  and  trudged  gayly 
on,  hoping  Sancho  wouldn't  feel  hurt  at  being  left, 
wondering  if  any  of  ' '  Smithers's  lot "  would  be  round, 


SOMEBdDY  RUNS  AWAY.  141 

and  planning  to  do  the  honors  handsomely  to  the 
boys. 

It  was  very  warm  ;  and  just  outside  of  the  town  they 
paused  by  a  wayside  watering-trough  to  wash  their 
dusty  faces,  and  cool  off  before  plunging  into  the  ex- 
citements of  the  afternoon.  As  they  stood  refreshing 
themselves,  a  baker's  cart  came  jingling  by ;  and  Sam 
proposed  a  hasty  lunch  while  they  rested.  A  supply 
of  gingerbread  was  soon  bought ;  and,  climbing  the 
green  bank  above,  they  lay  on  the  grass  under  a  wild 
cherry-tree,  munching  luxuriously,  while  they  feasted 
their  e}*es  at  the  same  time  on  the  splendors  awaiting 
them  ;  for  the  great  tent,  with  all  its  flags  flying,  was 
visible  from  the  hill. 

"We'll  cut  across  those  fields, — it's  shorter  than 
going  by  the  road,  —  and  then  we  can  look  round  out- 
side till  it 's  time  to  go  in.  I  want  to  have  a  good  go 
at  every  thing,  especially  the  lions,"  said  Sam,  begin- 
ning on  his  last  cookie. 

"  I  heard  'em  roar  just  now  ; "  and  Billy  stood  up  to 
gaze  with  big  eyes  at  the  flapping  canvas  which  hid  the 
king  of  beasts  from  his  longing  sight. 

"  That  was  a  cow  mooing.  Don't  you  be  a  donkey, 
Bill.  When  you  hear  a  real  roar,  you  '11  shake  in  your 
boots,"  said  Ben,  holding  up  his  handkerchief  to  dry, 
after  it  had  done  double  duty  as  towel  and  napkin. 

"  I  wish  you'd  hurry  up,  Sam.  Folks  are  going  in 
now.  I  see  'em  !  "  and  Billy  pranced  with  impatience  ; 
for  this  was  his  first  circus,  and  he  firmly  believed  that 
he  was  going  to  behold  all  that  the  pictures  promised. 

"  Hold  on  a  minute,  while  I  get  one  more  drink. 
Buns  are  dry   fodder,"  said  Sam,  rolling  over  to  the 


142  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

edge  of  the  bank  and  preparing  to  descend  with  as  little 
trouble  as  possible. 

He  nearly  went  down  head  first,  however ;  for,  as  he 
looked  before  he  leaped,  he  beheld  a  sight  which  caused 
him  to  stare  with  all  his  might  for  an  instant,  then  turn 
and  beckon,  saving  in  an  eager  whisper,  "Look  here, 
boys,  —  quick  !  " 

Ben  and  Billy  peered  over,  and  both  suppressed  an 
astonished  "  Hullo !  "  for  there  stood  Bab,  waiting  for 
Sancho  to  lap  his  fill  out  of  the  overflowing  trough. 

Such  a  shabb}',  tired-looking  couple  as  they  were ! 
Bab  with  a  face  as  red  as  a  lobster  and  streaked  with 
tears,  shoes  white  with  dust,  playfrock  torn  at  the 
gathers,  something  bundled  up  in  her  apron,  and  one 
shoe  down  at  the  heel  as  if  it  hurt  her.  Sancho  lapped 
eagerly,  with  his  eyes  shut ;  all  his  ruffles  were  gray 
with  dust,  and  his  tail  hung  wearily  down,  the  tassel 
at  half  mast,  as  if  in  mourning  for  the  master  whom 
he  had  come  to  find.  Bab  still  held  the  strap,  intent 
on  keeping  her  charge  safe,  though  she  lost  herself; 
but  her  courage  seemed  to  be  giving  out,  as  she  looked 
anxiously  up  and  down  the  road,  seeing  no  sign  of  the 
three  familiar  figures  she  had  been  following  as  steadily 
as  a  little  Indian  on  the  war- trail. 

"  Oh,  Sanch,  what  shall  I  do  if  they  don't  come  along? 
We  must  have  gone  by  them  somewhere,  for  I  don't  see 
any  one  that  way,  and  there  isn't  any  other  road  to  the 
circus,  seems  to  me." 

Bab  spoke  as  if  the  dog  could  understand  and  answer : 
and  Sancho  looked  as  if  he  did  both,  for  he  stopped 
drinking,  pricked  up  his  ears,  and,  fixing  his  sharp  eyes 
on  the  grass  above  him,  gave  a  suspicious  bark. 


SOMEBODY  RUNS  AWAY.  143 

"It's  only  squirrels ;  don't  mind,  but  come  along 
and  be  good ;  for  I  'm  so  tired,  I  don't  know  what  to 
do ! "  sighed  Bab,  trying  to  pull  him  after  her  as  she 
trudged  on,  bound  to  see  the  outside  of  that  wonderful 
tent,  even  if  she  never  got  in. 

But  Sancho  had  heard  a  soft  chirrup ;  and,  with  a 
sudden  bound,  twitched  the  strap  away,  sprang  up  the 
bank,  and  landed  directly  on  Ben's  back  as  he  lay  peep- 
ing over.  A  peal  of  laughter  greeted  him  ;  and,  having 
got  the  better  of  his  master  in  more  ways  than  one,  he 
made  the  most  of  the  advantage  by  playfully  worrying 
him  as  he  kept  him  down,  licking  his  face  in  spite  of 
his  struggles,  burrowing  in  his  neck  with  a  ticklish  nose, 
snapping  at  his  buttons,  and  yelping  joyfully,  as  if  it 
was  the  best  joke  in  the  world  to  play  hide-and-seek  for 
four  long  miles. 

Before  Ben  could  quiet  him,  Bab  came  climbing  up 
the  bank,  with  such  a  funny  mixture  of  fear,  fatigue, 
determination,  and  relief  in  her  dirty  little  face,  that 
the  boys  could  not  look  awful  if  they  tried. 

"How  dared  you  come  after  us,  miss?"  demanded 
Sam,  as  she  looked  calmly  about  her,  and  took  a  seat 
before  she  was  asked. 

"  Sanch  would  come  after  Ben  ;  I  couldn't  make  him 
go  home,  so  I  had  to  hold  on  till  he  was  safe  here,  else 
he  'd  be  lost,  and  then  Ben  would  feel  bad." 

The  cleverness  of  that  excuse  tickled  the  boys  im- 
mensely ;  and  Sam  tried  again,  while  Ben  was  getting 
the  dog  down  and  sitting  on  him. 

"  Now  you  expect  to  go  to  the  circus,  I  suppose." 

"  Course  I  do.  Ben  said  he  didn't  mind  paying,  if 
I  could  get  there  without  bothering  him,  and  I  have  3 


144  UNDER   THE  LILACS. 

and  I  '11  go  home  alone.  I  ain't  afraid.  Sanch  will  take 
care  of  me,  if  jow.  won't,"  answered  Bab,  stoutly. 

"What  do  you  suppose  your  mother  will  say  to 
you  ?  "  asked  Ben,  feeling  much  reproached  by  her  last 
words. 

"I  guess  she'll  say  you  led  me  into  mischief;"  and 
the  sharp  child  nodded,  as  if  she  defied  him  to  deny  the 
truth  of  that. 

"  You'll  catch  it  when  you  get  home,  Ben  ;  so  you'd 
better  have  a  good  time  while  you  can,"  advised  Sam, 
thinking  Bab  great  fun,  since  none  of  the  blame  of 
her  pranks  would  fall  on  him. 

"What  would  you  have  done  if  you  hadn't  found 
us?"  asked  Billy,  forgetting  his  impatience  in  his  ad- 
miration for  this  plucky  young  lady. 

"I'd  have  gone  on  and  seen  the  circus,  and  then  I'd 
have  gone  home  again  and  told  Betty  all  about  it,"  was 
the  prompt  answer. 

"  But  you  haven't  any  money." 

"  Oh,  I  'd  ask  somebody  to  pay  for  me.  I  'm  so  little, 
it  wouldn't  be  much." 

"Nobody  would  do  it ;  so  you 'd  have  to  stay  outside, 
you  see." 

"  No,  I  wouldn't.  I  thought  of  that,  and  planned  how 
I  %d  fix  it  if  I  didn't  find  Ben.  I  'd  make  Sanch  do  hia 
tricks,  and  get  a  quarter  that  way  ;  so,  now  !  "  answered 
Bab,  undaunted  by  any  obstacle. 

"  I  do  believe  she  would!  You  are  a  smart  child, 
Bab ;  and  if  I  had  enough  I  'd  take  you  in  myself," 
said  Billy,  heartily ;  for,  having  sisters  of  his  own,  he 
kept  a  soft  place  in  his  heart  for  girls,  especially  enter- 
prising ones. 


SOMEBODY  RUNS  AWAY.  145 

"I'll  take  care  of  her.  It  was  very  naughty  to  come, 
Bab  ;  but,  so  long  as  you  did,  you  needn't  worry  about 
any  thing.  I  '11  see  to  you  ;  and  you  shall  have  a  real 
good  time,"  said  Ben,  accepting  his  responsibilities 
-without  a  murmur,  and  bound  to  do  the  handsome  thing 
by  his  persistent  friend. 

"  I  thought  you  would ; "  and  Bab  folded  her  arms, 
as  if  she  had  nothing  further  to  do  but  enjoy  herself. 

"Are  you  hungry?"  asked  Billy,  fishing  out  several 
fragments  of  gingerbread. 

"Starving!"  and  Bab  ate  them  with  such  a  relish 
that  Sam  added  a  small  contribution ;  and  Ben  caught 
some  water  for  her  in  his  hand,  where  the  little  spring 
bubbled  up  beside  a  stone. 

"Now,  you  wash  your  face  and  spat  down  your 
hair,  and  put  your  hat  on  straight,  and  then  we'll 
go,"  commanded  Ben,  giving  Sanch  a  roll  on  the  grass 
to  clean  him. 

Bab  scrubbed  her  face  till  it  shone  ;  and,  pulling  down 
her  apron  to  wipe  it,  scattered  a  load  of  treasures  col- 
lected in  her  walk.  '  Some  of  the  dead  flowers,  bits  of 
moss,  and  green  twigs  fell  near  Ben,  and  one  attracted 
his  attention,  —  a  spray  of  broad,  smooth  leaves,  with 
a  bunch  of  whitish  berries  on  it. 

"  Where  did  you  get  that?  "  he  asked,  poking  it  with 
his  foot. 

"In  a  swampy  place,  coming  along.  Sanch  saw 
something  down  there ;  and  I  went  with  him,  'cause  I 
thought  may  be  it  was  a  musk-rat,  and  you  'd  like  one 
if  we  could  get  him." 

"Was  it?"  asked  the  boys  all  at  once,  and  with 
intense  interest. 

7  j 


146  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

"No;  only  a  snake,  and  I  don't  care  for  snakes. 
I  picked  some  of  that,  it  was  so  green  and  pretty. 
Thorn}-  likes  queer  leaves  and  berries,  you  know,"  an- 
swered Bab,  "  spatting"  down  her  rough  locks. 

' '  Well,  he  won't  like  that,  nor  you  either ;  it 's  poi- 
sonous, and  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  you'd  got  poisoned, 
Bab.  Don't  touch  it !  swamp- sumach  is  horrid  stuff,  — 
Miss  Celia  said  so  ; "  and  Ben  looked  anxiously  at  Bab, 
who  felt  her  chubby  face  all  over,  and  examined  her 
dingy  hands  with  a  solemn  air,  asking  eagerly,  — 

' '  Will  it  break  out  on  me  'fore  I  get  to  the  circus  ?  " 

"  Not  for  a  day  or  so,  I  guess ;  but  it's  bad  when 
it  does  come." 

"I  don't  care,  if  I  see  the  animals  first.  Come  quick, 
and  never  mind  the  old  weeds  and  things,"  said  Bab, 
much  relieved ;  for  present  bliss  was  all  she  had  room 
for  now  in  her  happy  little  heart. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

SOMEBODY  GETS  LOST. 

PUTTING  all  care  behind  them,  the  young  folks  ran 
down  the  hill,  with  a  very  lively  dog  gambolling 
beside  them,  and  took  a  delightfully  tantalizing  survey 
of  the  external  charms  of  the  big  tent.  But  people 
were  beginning  to  go  in,  and  it  was  impossible  to  delay 
when  they  came  round  to  the  entrance. 

Ben  felt  that  now  "  his  foot  was  on  his  native  heath," 
and  the  superb  air  of  indifference  with  which  he  threw 
down  his  dollar  at  the  ticket-office,  carelessly  swept  up 
the  change,  and  strolled  into  the  tent  with  his  hands  in 
his  pockets,  was  so  impressive  that  even  big  Sam  re- 
pressed his  excitement  and  meekly  followed  their  leader, 
as  he  led  them  from  cage  to  cage,  doing  the  honors  as 
if  he  owned  the  whole  concern.  Bab  held  tight  to  the 
flap  of  his  jacket,  staring  about  her  with  round  eyes, 
and  listening  with  little  gasps  of  astonishment  or  delight 
to  the  roaring  of  lions,  the  snarling  of  tigers,  the  chatter 
of  the  monkeys,  the  groaning  of  camels,  and  the  music 
of  the  very  brass  band  shut  up  in  a  red  bin. 

Five  elephants  were  tossing  their  hay  about  in  the 
middle  of  the  menagerie,  and  Billy's  legs  shook  under 
him  as  he  looked  up  at  the  big  beasts  whose  long  noses 


148  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

and  small,  sagacious  eyes  filled  him  with  awe.  Sam  was 
so  tickled  by  the  droll  monkeys  that  the  others  left  him 
before  the  cage  and  went  on  to  see  the  zebra,  "  striped 
just  like  Ma's  muslin  gown,"  Bab  declared.  But  the 
next  minute  she  forgot  all  about  him  in  her  raptures  over 
the  ponies  and  their  tiny  colts  ;  especially  one  mite  of  a 
thing  who  lay  asleep  on  the  hay,  such  a  miniature  copy 
of  its  little  mouse-colored  mamma  that  one  could  hardly 
believe  it  was  alive. 

"  Oh,  Ben,  I  must  feel  of  it!  —  the  cunning  baby 
horse  !  "  and  down  went  Bab  inside  the  rope  to  pat  and 
admire  the  pretty  creature,  while  its  mother  smelt 
suspiciously  at  the  brown  hat,  and  baby  lazily  opened 
one  eye  to  see  what  was  going  on. 

"Come  out  of  that,  it  isn't  allowed!"  commanded 
Ben,  longing  to  do  the  same  thing,  but  mindful  of  the 
proprieties  and  his  own  dignity. 

Bab  reluctantly  tore  herself  away  to  find  consolation 
in  watching  the  young  lions,  who  looked  so  like  big 
puppies,  and  the  tigers  washing  their  faces  just  as  puss 
did. 

"KI  stroked  'em,  wouldn't  they  purr?"  she  asked, 
bent  on  enjoying  herself,  while  Ben  held  her  skirts  lesl 
she  should  try  the  experiment. 

"  You  'd  better  not  go  to  patting  them,  or  you  '11  get 
your  hands  clawed  up.  Tigers  do  purr  like  fun  when 
they  are  happy,  but  these  fellers  never  are,  and  you  '11 
only  see  'em  spit  and  snarl,"  said  Ben,  leading  the  way 
to  the  hump}T  camels,  who  were  peacefully  chewing  their 
cud  and  longing  for  the  desert,  with  a  dreamy,  far-away 
look  in  their  mournful  eyes. 

Here,  leaning  on  the  rope,  and  scientifically  biting  a 


SOMEBODY  GETS   LOST.  149 

straw  while  he  talked,  Ben  played  showman  to  his 
heart's  content  till  the  neigh  of  a  horse  from  the  circus 
tent  beyond  reminded  him  of  the  joys  to  come. 

'We'd  better  hurry  along  and  get  good  seats  before 
folks  begin  to  crowd.  I  want  to  sit  near  the  curtain 
and  see  if  any  of  Smithers's  lot  are  'round." 

'•  I  ain't  going  way  off  there ;  you  can't  see  half  so 
well,  and  that  big  drum  makes  such  a  noise  you  can't 
hear  yourself  think,"  said  Sam,  who  had  rejoined 
them. 

So  they  settled  in  good  places  where  they  could  see 
and  hear  all  that  went  on  in  the  ring  and  still  catch 
glimpses  of  white  horses,  bright  colors,  and  the  glitter 
of  helmets  beyond  the  dingy  red  curtains.  Ben  treated 
Bab  to  peanuts  and  pop-corn  like  an  indulgent  parent, 
and  she  murmured  protestations  of  undying  gratitude 
with  her  mouth  full,  as  she  sat  blissfully  between  him 
and  the  congenial  Billy. 

Sancho,  meantime,  had  been  much  excited  by  the 
familiar  sights  and  sounds,  and  now  was  greatly  exer- 
cised in  his  doggish  mind  at  the  unusual  proceeding  of 
his  master  ;  for  he  was  sure  that  they  ought  to  be  within 
there,  putting  on  their  costumes,  ready  to  take  their 
turn.  He  looked  anxiously  at  Ben,  sniffed  disdainfully 
at  the  strap  as  if  to  remind  him  that  a  scarlet  ribbon 
ought  to  take  its  place,  and  poked  peanut  shells  about 
with  his  paw  as  if  searching  for  the  letters  with  which 
to  spell  his  famous  name. 

"I  know,  old  boy,  I  know;  but  it  can't  be  done. 
We  Ve  quit  the  business  and  must  just  look  on.  No 
larks  for  us  this  time,  Sanch,  so  keep  quiet  and  behave," 
whispered  Ben,  tucking  the  dog  away  under  the  seat 


150  UNDER   THE  LILACS. 

with  a  sympathetic  cuddle  of  the  curly  head  that  peeped 
out  from  between  his  feet. 

"  He  wants  to  go  and  cut  up,  don't  he?"  said  Billy, 
"  and  so  do  you,  I  guess.  Wish  you  were  going  to. 
Wouldn't  it  be  fun  to  see  Ben  showing  off  in  there  ?  " 

"  I  'd  be  afraid  to  have  him  go  up  on  a  pile  of  ele- 
phants and  jump  through  hoops  like  these  folks,"  an- 
swered Bab,  poring  over  her  pictured  play-bill  with 
unabated  relish. 

"  Done  it  a  hundred  times,  and  I  'd  just  like  to  show 
you  what  I  can  do.  They  don't  seem  to  have  any  boys 
in  this  lot ;  shouldn't  wonder  if  they  'd  take  me  if  I 
asked  'em,"  said  Ben,  moving  uneasily  on  his  seat  and 
casting  wistful  glances  toward  the  inner  tent  where  he 
knew  he  would  feel  more  at  home  than  in  his  present 
place. 

"  I  heard  some  men  say  that  it 's  against  the  law  to 
have  small  boys  now ;  it 's  so  dangerous  and  rot  good 
for  them,  this  kind  of  thing.  If  that 's  so,  you're  done 
for,  Ben,"  observed  Sam,  witn  his  most  grown-up  air, 
remembering  Ben's  remarks  on  "  fat  boys." 

"  Don't  believe  a  word  of  it,  and  Sanch  and  I  could 
go  this  minute  and  get  taken  on,  I  '11  bet.  We  are  a 
valuable  couple,  and  I  could  prove  it  if  I  chose  to," 
began  Ben,  getting  excited  and  boastful. 

"  Oh,  see,  they  're  coming! — gold  carriages  and 
lovely  horses,  and  flags  and  elephants,  and  every  thing  !  " 
cried  Bab,  giving  a  clutch  at  Ben's  arm  as  the  opening 
procession  appeared  headed  by  the  band,  tooting  and 
banging  till  their  faces  were  as  red  as  their  uniforms. 

Round  and  round  they  went  till  every  one  had  seen 
their  fill,  then  the  riders  alone  were  left  caracoling  about 


SOMEBODY  GETS  LOST.  151 

the  ring  with  feathers  flying,  horses  prancing,  and  per- 
formers looking  as  tired  and  indifferent  as  if  they  would 
all  like  to  go  to  sleep  then  and  there. 

"  How  splendid  !  "  sighed  Bab,  as  they  went  dashing 
out,  to  tumble  off  almost  before  the  horses  stopped. 

"  That 's  nothing  !  You  wait  till  you  see  the  bare-back 
riding  and  the  '  acrobatic  exercises/  "  said  Ben,  quot- 
ing from  the  play-bill,  with  the  air  of  one  who  knew  all 
about  the  feats  to  come,  and  could  never  be  surprised 
any  more. 

"What  are  '  crowbacMc  exercises  ?'"  asked  Billy, 
thirsting  for  information.  '  . 

' '  Leaping  and  climbing  and  tumbling  ;  you  '11  see 
—  George  !  what  a  stunning  horse ! "  and  Ben  forgot 
every  thing  else  to  feast  his  eyes  on  the  handsome 
creature  who  now  came  pacing  in  to  dance,  upset  and 
replace  chairs,  kneel,  bow,  and  perform  many  wonder- 
ful or  graceful  feats,  ending  with  a  swift  gallop  while 
the  rider  sat  in  a  chair  on  its  back  fanning  himself,  with 
his  legs  crossed,  as  comfortably  as  you  please. 

"That,  now,  is  something  like,"  and  Ben's  eyes 
shone  with  admiration  and  envy  as  the  pair  vanished, 
and  the  pink  and  silver  acrobats  came  leaping  into  the 
ring. 

The  boys  were  especially  interested  in  this  part,  and 
well  they  might  be  ;  for  strength  and  agility  are  manly 
attributes  which  lads  appreciate,  and  these  lively  fellows 
flew  about  like  India-rubber  balls,  each  trying  to  outdo 
the  other,  till  the  leader  of  the  acrobats  capped  the 
climax  by  turning  a  double  somersault  over  five  ele- 
phants standing  side  by  side. 

"There,  sir,  how's  that  for  a  jump?"  asked  Ben, 


1DU  UNDER    THE  LILACS 

rubbing  his  hands  with  satisfaction  as  his  friends  clapped 
till  their  palms  tingled. 

"  We  '11  rig  up  a  spring-board  and  try  it,"  said  Billy, 
fired  with  emulation. 

1 '  Where  '11  you  get  your  elephants  ?  "  asked  Sam, 
scornfully,  for  gymnastics  were  not  in  his  line. 

"You'll  do  for  one,"  retorted  Ben,  and  Billy  and 
Bab  joined  in  his  laugh  so  heartily  that  a  rough-looking 
man  who  sat  behind  them,  hearing  all  they  said,  pro- 
nounced them  a  "jolly  set,"  and  kept  his  eye  on  Sancho, 
who  now  showed  signs  of  insubordination. 

"  Hullo,  that  wasn't  on  the  bill ! "  cried  Ben,  as  a 
parti-colored  clown  came  in,  followed  by  half  a  dozen 
dogs. 

"I'm  so  glad;  now  Sancho  will  like  it.  There's  a 
poodle  that  might  be  his  ownty  donty  brother  —  the 
one  with  the  blue  ribbon,"  said  Bab,  beaming  with  de- 
light as  the  dogs  took  their  seats  in  the  chairs  arranged 
for  them. 

Sancho  did  like  it  only  too  well,  for  he  scrambled  out 
from  under  the  seat  in  a  great  hurry  to  go  and  greet  his 
friends  ;  and,  being  sharply  checked,  sat  up  and  begged 
so  piteously  that  Ben  found  it  very  hard  to  refuse  and 
order  him  down.  He  subsided  for  a  moment,  but 
when  the  black  spaniel,  who  acted  the  canine  clown, 
did  something  funny  and  was  applauded,  Sancho  made 
a  dart  as  if  bent  on  leaping  into  the  ring  to  outdo  his 
rival,  and  Ben  was  forced  to  box  his  ears  and  put  his 
feet  on  the  poor  beast,  fearing  he  would  be  ordered  out 
if  he  made  any  disturbance. 

Too  well  trained  to  rebel  again,  Sancho  lay  meditating 
on  his  wrongs  till  the  dog  act  was  over,  carefully  ab- 


SOMEBODY  GETS  LOST.  153 

staining  from  any  further  sign  of  interest  in  their  tricks , 
and  only  giving  a  sidelong  glance  at  the  two  little  poo- 
dles who  came  out  of  a  basket  to  run  up  and  down  stairs 
on  their  fore  paws,  dance  jigs  on  their  hind  legs,  and 
play  -various  pretty  pranks  to  the  great  delight  of  all  the 
children  in  the  audience.  If  ever  a  dog  expressed  by 
look  and  attitude,  "  Pooh !  I  could  do  much  better  than 
that,  and  astonish  you  all,  if  I  were  only  allowed  to," 
that  dog  was  Sancho,  as  he  curled  himself  up  and  af- 
fected to  turn  his  back  on  an  unappreciative  world. 

"It's  too  bad,  when  he  knows  more  than  all  those 
chaps  put  together.  I  'd  give  any  thing  if  I  could  show 
him  off  as  I  used  to.  Folks  always  like  it,  and  I  was 
ever  so  proud  of  him.  He 's  mad  now  because  I  had  to 
cuff  him,  and  won't  take  any  notice  of  me  till  I  make 
up,"  said  Ben,  regretfully  eying  his  offended  friend, 
but  not  daring  to  beg  pardon  yet. 

More  riding  followed,  and  Bab  was  kept  in  a  breath- 
less state  by  the  marvellous  agility  and  skill  of  the  gauzy 
lady  who  drove  four  horses  at  once,  leaped  through 
hoops,  over  banners  and  bars,  sprang  off  and  on  at  full 
speed,  and  seemed  to  enjoy  it  all  so  much  it  was  impos- 
sible to  believe  that  there  could  be  any  danger  or  exer- 
tion in  it.  Then  two  girls  flew  about  on  the  trapeze, 
and  walked  on  a  tight  rope,  causing  Bab  to  feel  that  she 
had  at  last  found  her  sphere  ;  for,  young  as  she  was,  her 
mother  often  said,  — 

"  I  really  don't  know  what  this  child  is  fit  for,  except 
mischief,  like  a  monkey." 

"I'll  fix  the  clothes-line  when  I  get  home,  and  show 
Ma  how  nice  it  is.  Then,  may  be,  she'll  let  me  wear 
red  and  gold  trousers,  and  climb  round  like  these  girls,w 

7» 


154  UNDER    TEE  LILACS. 

thought  the  busy  little  brain,  much  excited  by  all  it  saw 
on  that  memorable  day. 

Nothing  short  of  a  pyramid  of  elephants  with  a  glhV 
tering  gentleman  in  a  turban  and  top  boots  on  the  sum- 
mit would  have  made  her  forget  this  new  and  charming 
plan.  But  that  astonishing  spectacle,  and  the  prospect 
of  a  cage  of  Bengal  tigers  with  a  man  among  them,  in 
imminent  danger  of  being  eaten  before  her  eyes,  en- 
tirely absorbed-  her  thoughts  till,  just  as  the  big  animals 
went  lumbering  out,  a  peal  of  thunder  caused  consid- 
erable commotion  in  the  audience.  Men  on  the  highest 
seats  popped  their  heads  through  the  openings  in  the 
tent-cover  and  reported  that  a  heavy  shower  was  coming 
up.  Anxious  mothers  began  to  collect  their  flocks  of 
children  as  hens  do  their  chickens  at  sunset ;  timid  peo- 
ple told  cheerful  stories  of  tents  blown  over  in  gales, 
cages  upset  and  wild  beasts  let  loose.  Many  left  in 
naste,  and  the  performers  hurried  to  finish  as  soon  as 
possible. 

"I'm  going  now  before  the  crowd  comes,  so  I  can 
get  a  lift  home.  I  see  two  or  three  folks  I  know,  so 
I'm  off;"  and,  climbing  hastily  down,  Sam  vanished 
without  further  ceremony. 

"Better  wait  till  the  shower  is  over.  We  can  go 
and  see  the  animals  again,  and  get  home  all  dry,  just 
is  well  as  not,"  observed  Ben,  encouragingly,  as  Billy 
Looked  anxiously  at  the  billowing  canvas  over  his  head, 
the  swa}Ting  posts  before  him,  and  heard  the  quick  pat- 
ter of  drops  outside,  not  to  mention  the  melancholy 
roar  of  the  lion  which  sounded  rather  awful  through  the 
sudden  gloom  which  filled  the  strange  place. 

"  I  wouldn't   miss   the  tigers  for   any  thing.     See. 


SOMEBODY   GETS  LOST.  155 

they  are  pulling  in  the  cart  now,  and  the  shiny  man  is 
all  ready  with  his  gun.  Will  he  shoot  any  of  them, 
Ben?"  asked  Bab,  nestling  nearer  with  a  little  shiver 
of  apprehension,  for  the  sharp  crack  of  a  rifle  startled 
her  more  than  the  loudest  thunder-clap  she  ever  heard. 

"Bless  you,  no,  child;  it's  only  powder  to  make  a 
noise  and  scare  'em.  I  wouldn't  like  to  be  in  his  place, 
though ;  father  says  you  can  never  trust  tigers  as  you 
can  lions,  no  matter  how  tame  they  are.  Sly  fellers, 
like  cats,  and  when  they  scratch  it's  no  joke,  I  tell 
you,"  answered  Ben,  with  a  knowing  wag  of  the  head, 
as  the  sides  of  the  cage  rattled  down,  and  the  poor, 
fierce  creatures  were  seen  leaping  and  snarling  as  if 
they  resented  this  display  of  their  captivity. 

Bab  curled  up  her  feet  and  winked  fast  with  excite 
ment  as  she  watched  the  "  shiny  man"  fondle  the  great 
cats,  lie  down  among  them,  pull  open  their  red  mouths, 
and  make  them  leap  over  him  or  crouch  at  his  feet  as 
he  snapped  the  long  whip.  When  he  fired  the  gun  and 
they  all  fell  as  if  dead,  she  with  difficulty  suppressed  a 
small  scream  and  clapped  her  hands  over  her  ears  ;  but 
poor  Billy  never  minded  it  a  bit,  for  he  was  pale  and 
quaking  with  the  fear  of  "  heaven's  artillery"  thunder- 
ing over  head,  and  as  a  bright  flash  of  lightning  seemed 
to  run  down  the  tall  tent-poles  he  hid  his  eyes  and 
wished  with  all  his  heart  that  he  was  safe  with  mother. 

"  'Fraid  of  thunder,  Bill?"  asked  Ben,  trying  to 
speak  stoutly,  while  a  sense  of  his  own  responsibilities 
began  to  worry  him,  for  how  was  Bab  to  be  got  home 
In  such  a  pouring  rain  ? 

"  It  makes  me  sick ;  always  did.  Wish  I  hadn't 
come,"  sighed  Billy,  feeling,  all  too  late,  that  lemonade 


156  UNDER   THE  LILACS. 

and  "lozengers"  were  not  the  fittest  food  for  man,  oi 
a  stifling  tent  the  best  place  to  be  in  on  a  hot  July  day, 
especially  in  a  thunder-storm. 

"I  didn't  ask  you  to  come;  you  asked  me;  so  it 
isn't  my  fault,"  said  Ben,  rather  gruffly,  as  people 
crowded  by  without  pausing  to  hear  the  comic  song  the 
clown  was  singing  in  spite  of  the  confusion. 

"  Oh,  I'm  so  tired,"  groaned  Bab,  getting  up  with  a 
long  stretch  of  arms  and  legs. 

"You'll  be  tireder  before  you  get  home,  I  guess. 
Nobody  asked  you  to  come,  any  way  ; "  and  Ben  gazed 
dolefully  round  him,  wishing  he  could  see  a  familiar  face 
or  find  a  wiser  head  than  his  own  to  help  him  out  of  the 
scrape  he  was  in. 

"I  said  I  wouldn't  be  a  bother,  and  I  won't.  I'll 
walk  right  home  this  minute.  I  ain't  afraid  of  thunder, 
and  the  rain  won't  hurt  these  old  clothes.  Come  along." 
cried  Bab,  bravely,  bent  on  keeping  her  word,  though 
it  looked  much  harder  after  the  fun  was  all  over  than 
before. 

"My  head  aches  like  fury.  Don't  I  wish  old  Jack 
was  here  to  take  me  back,"  said  Billy,  following  his 
companions  in  misfortune  with  sudden  energy,  as  a 
louder  peal  than  before  rolled  overhead. 

"You  might  as  well  wish  for  Lita  and  the  covered 
wagon  while  you  are  about  it,  then  we  could  all 
ride,"  answered  Ben,  leading  the  way  to  the  outer 
tent,  where  many  people  were  lingering  in  hopes  of 
fair  weather. 

"Why,  Billy  Barton,  how  in  the  world  did  you  get 
here  ? "  cried  a  surprised  voice .  as  the  crook  of  a  cane 
caught  the  boy  by  the  collar  and  jerked  him  face  to  face 


SOMEBODY  GETS  LOST.  157 

with  a  young  farmer,  who  was  pushing  along,  followed 
by  his  wife  and  two  or  three  children. 

"Oh,  Uncle  Eben,  I'm  so  glad  you  found  me!  I 
walked  over,  and  it's  raining,  and  I  don't  feel  well. 
Let  me  go  with  you,  can't  I?"  asked  Billy,  casting 
himself  and  all  his  woes  upon  the  strong  arm  that  had 
laid  hold  of  him. 

' '  Don't  see  what  your  mother  was  about  to  let  yon 
come  so  far  alone,  and  you  just  over  scarlet  fever.  We 
are  as  full  as  ever  we  can  be,  but  we'll  tuck  you  in 
somehow,"  said  the  pleasant-faced  woman,  bundling  up 
her  baby,  and  bidding  the  two  little  lads  "keep  close 
to  father." 

"I  didn't  come  alone.  Sam  got  a  ride,  and  can't 
you  tuck  Ben  and  Bab  in  too?  They  ain't  very  big, 
either  of  them,"  whispered  Billy,  anxious  to  serve  his 
friends  now  that  he  was  provided  for  himself. 

' '  Can't  do  it,  any  way.  Got  to  pick  up  mother  at 
the  corner,  and  that  will  be  all  I  can  carry.  It 's  lifting 
a  little  ;  hurry  along,  Lizzie,  and  let  us  get  out  of  this 
as  quick  as  possible,"  said  Uncle  Eben,  impatiently ; 
for  going  to  a  circus  with  a  young  family  is  not  an  easy 
task,  as  every  one  knows  who  has  ever  tried  it. 

"Ben,  I'm  real  sorry  there  isn't  room  for  you.  I'll 
tell  Bab's  mother  where  she  is,  and  may  be  some  one 
will  come  for  you,"  said  Billy,  hurriedly,  as  he  tore 
himself  away,  feeling  rather  mean  to  desert  the  others, 
though  he  could  be  of  no  use. 

"  Cut  away,  and  don't  mind  us.  I'm  all  right,  and 
Bab  must  do  the  best  she  can,"  was  all  Ben  had  time 
to  answer  before  his  comrade  was  hustled  away  by  the 
crowd  pressing  round  the  entrance  with  much  clashing 


158  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

of  umbrellas  and  scrambling  of  boys  and  men,  who 
rather  enjo}Ted  the  flurry. 

"  No  use  for  us  to  get  knocked  about  in  that  scrim- 
mage. We  '11  wait  a  minute  and  then  go  out  easy.  It's 
a  regular  rouser,  and  you'll  be  as  wet  as  a  sop  before 
we  get  home.  Hope  you'll  like  that?"  added  Ben, 
looking  out  at  the  heavy  rain  pouring  down  as  if  it 
never  meant  to  stop. 

"Don't  care  a  bit,"  said  Bab,  swinging  on  one  of 
the  ropes  with  a  happy-go-lucky  air,  for  her  spirits  were 
not  extinguished  yet,  and  she  was  bound  to  enjoy  this 
exciting  holiday  to  the  very  end.  "I  like  circuses  so 
much  !  I  wish  I  lived  here  all  the  time,  and  slept  in  a 
wagon,  as  you  did,  and  had  these  dear  little  colties  to 
play  with." 

"It  wouldn't  be  fun  if  you  didn't  have  any  folks 
to  take  care  of  you,"  began  Ben,  thoughtfully  looking 
about  the  familiar  place  where  the  men  were  now  feed- 
ing the  animals,  setting  their  refreshment  tables,  or 
lounging  on  the  hay  to  get  such  rest  as  they  could  be- 
fore the  evening  entertainment.  Suddenly  he  started, 
gave  a  long  look,  then  turned  to  Bab,  and  thrusting 
Sancho's  strap  into  her  hand,  said,  hastily :  "I  see  a 
fellow  I  used  to  know.  May  be  he  can  tell  me  some- 
thing about  father.     Don't  you  stir  till  I  come  back." 

TJien  he  was  off  like  a  shot,  and  Bab  saw  him  run 
after  a  man  with  a  bucket  who  had  been  watering  the 
zebra.  Sancho  tried  to  follow,  but  was  checked  with 
an  impatient,  — 

"  No,  you  can't  go  !  What  a  plague  you  are,  tagging 
around  when  people  don't  want  you." 

Sancho  might  have  answered,   "  So  are  you,"  but, 


SOMEBODY  GETS  LOST.  159 

being  a  gentlemanly  dog,  he  sat  down  with  a  resigned 
expression  to  watch  the  little  colts,  who  were  now  awake 
and  seemed  ready  for  a  game  of  bo-peep  behind  their 
mammas.  Bab  enjoyed  their  funny  little  frisks  so  much 
that  she  tied  the  wearisome  strap  to  a  post,  and  crept 
under  the  rope  to  pet  the  tiny  mouse-colored  one  who 
came  and  talked  to  her  with  baby  whinnies  and  confid- 
ing glances  of  its  soft,  dark  eyes. 

Oh,  luckless  Bab  !  why  did  you  turn  your  back  ?  Oh, 
too  accomplished  Sancho  !  why  did  you  neatly  untie  that 
knot  and  trot  away  to  confer  with  the  disreputable  bull 
dog  who  stood  in  the  entrance  beckoning  with  friendly 
wavings  of  an  abbreviated  tail?  Oh,  much  afflicted 
Ben !  why  did  you  delay  till  it  was  too  late  to  save 
your  pet  from  the  rough  man  who  set  his  foot  upon  the 
trailing  strap,  and  led  poor  Sanch  quickly  out  of  sight 
among  the  crowd. 

"  It  was  Bascum,  but  he  didn't  know  any  thing. 
Why,  where 's  Sanch  ?  "  said  Ben,  returning. 

A  breathless  voice  made  Bab  turn  to  see  Ben  looking 
about  him  with  as  much  alarm  in  his  hot  face  as  if  the 
dog  had  been  a  two  years'  child. 

"•I  tied  him  —  he's  here  somewhere  —  with  the 
ponies,"  stammered  Bab,  in  sudden  dismay,  for  no  sign 
of  a  dog  appeared  as  her  eyes  roved  wildly  to  and  fro. 

Ben  whistled,  called  and  searched  in  vain,  till  one  of 
the  lounging  men  said,  lazily,  — 

44  If  you  are  looking  after  the  big  poodle  you  'd  better 
go  outside  ;  I  saw  him  trotting  off  with  another  dog." 

Away  rushed  Ben,  with  Bab  following,  regardless  of 
the  ram,  for  both  felt  that  a  great  misfortune  had  be- 
fallen them.    But,  long  before  this,  Sancho  had  vanished, 


160  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

and  no  one  minded  his  indignant  howls  as  he  was  driven 
off  in  a  covered  cart. 

"If  he  is  lost  I'll  never  forgive  you  ;  never,  never, 
never ! "  and  Ben  found  it  impossible  to  resist  giving 
Bab  several  hard  shakes,  which  made  her  yellow  braids 
8y  up  and  down  like  pump  handles. 

"  I  'm  dreadful  sorry.  He  '11  come  back  —  you  said 
he  always  did,"  pleaded  Bab,  quite  crushed  by  her  own 
afflictions,  and  rather  scared  to  see  Ben  look  so  fierce, 
for  he  seldom  lost  his  temper  or  was  rough  with  the 
little  girls. 

"Khe  doesn't  come  back,  don't  you  speak  to  me 
for  a  year.  Now,  I'm  going  home."  And,  feeling 
that  words  were  powerless  to  express  his  emotions,  Ben 
walked  away,  looking  as  grim  as  a  small  boy  could. 

A  more  unhappy  little  lass  is  seldom  to  be  found  than 
Bab  was,  as  she  pattered  after  him,  splashing  recklessly 
through  the  puddles,  and  getting  as  wet  and  muddy  as 
possible,  as  a  sort  of  penance  for  her  sins.  For  a  mile 
or  two  she  trudged  stoutly  along,  while  Ben  marched 
before  in  solemn  silence,  which  soon  became  both  im- 
pressive and  oppressive  because  so  unusual,  and  such 
a  proof  of  his  deep  displeasure.  Penitent  Bab  longed 
for  just  one  word,  one  sign  of  relenting  ;  and  when  none 
jame,  she  began  to  wonder  how  she  could  possibly  bear 
it  if  he  kept  his  dreadful  threat  and  did  not  speak  to 
her  for  a  whole  year. 

But  presently  her  own  discomfort  absorbed  her,  for 
her  feet  were  wet  and  cold  as  well  as  very  tired  ;  pop- 
corn and  peanuts  were  not  particularly  nourishing  food, 
and  hunger  made  her  feel  faint ;  excitement  was  a  new 
thing,  and  now  that  it  was  over  she  longed  to  He  down 


SOMEBODY  GETS  LOST.  161 

and  go  to  sleep  ;  then  the  long  walk  with  a  circus  at  the 
end  seemed  a  very  different  affair  from  the  homeward 
trip  with  a  distracted  mother  awaiting  her.  The  shower 
had  subsided  into  a  dreary  drizzle,  a  chilly  east  wind 
blew  up,  the  hilly  road  seemed  to  lengthen  before  the 
weary  feet,  and  the  mute,  blue  flannel  figure  going  on 
so  fast  with  never  a  look  or  sound,  added  the  last  touch 
to  Bab's  remorseful  anguish. 

Wagons  passed,  but  all  were  full,  and  no  one  offered 
a  ride.  Men  and  boys  went  by  with  rough  jokes  on  the 
forlorn  pair,  for  rain  soon  made  them  look  like  young 
tramps.  But  there  was  no  brave  Sancho  to  resent  the 
impertinence,  and  this  fact  was  sadly  brought  to  both 
their  minds  by  the  appearance  of  a  great  Newfoundland 
dog  who  came  trotting  after  a  carriage.  The  good 
creature  stopped  to  say  a  friendly  word  in  his  dumb 
fashion,  looking  up  at  Bab  with  benevolent  eyes,  and 
poking  his  nose  into  Ben's  hand  before  he  bounded  away 
with  his  plumy  tail  curled  over  his  back. 

Ben  started  as  the  cold  nose  touched  his  fingers,  gave 
the  soft  head  a  lingering  pat,  and  watched  the  dog  out 
of  sight  through  a  thicker  mist  than  any  the  rain  made. 
But  Bab  broke  down  ;  for  the  wistful  look  of  the  crea- 
ture's eyes  reminded  her  of  lost  Sancho,  and  she  sobbed 
quietly  as  she  glanced  back  longing  to  see  the  dear  old 
fellow  jogging  along  in  the  rear. 

Ben  heard  the  piteous  sound  and  took  a  sly  peep  over 
his  shoulder,  seeing  such  a  mournful  spectacle  that  he 
felt  appeased,  saying  to  himself  as  if  to  excuse  his  late 
sternness,  — 

"  She  is  a  naughty  girl,  but  I  guess  she  is  about  sorry 
enough  now.     When  we  get  to  that  sign-post  I  '11  speak 


162  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

to  her,  only  I  won't  forgive  her  till  Sanch  comes 
back." 

But  he  was  better  than  his  word  ;  for,  just  before  the 
post  was  reached,  Bab,  blinded  by  tears,  tripped  over 
the  root  of  a  tree,  and,  rolling  down  the  bank,  landed 
in  a  bed  of  wet  nettles.  Ben  had  her  out  in  a  jiffy,  and 
vainly  tried  to  comfort  her  ;  but  she  was  past  any  con- 
solation he  could  offer,  and  roared  dismally  as  she 
wrung  her  tingling  hands,  with  great  drops  running 
over  her  cheeks  almost  as  fast  as  the  muddy  little  rills 
ran  down  the  road. 

"  Oh  dear,  oh  dear  !  I  'm  all  stinged  up,  and  I  want 
my  supper ;  and  my  feet  ache,  and  I  'm  cold,  and  every 
thing  is  so  horrid ! "  wailed  the  poor  child  lying  on  the 
grass,  such  a  miserable  little  wet  bunch  that  the  sternest 
parent  would  have  melted  at  the  sight. 

"  Don't  cry  so,  Babby ;  I  was  real  cross,  and  I  'm 
sorry.  I'll  forgive  you  right  away  now,  and  never 
shake  you  any  more,"  cried  Ben,  so  full  of  pity  for  her 
tribulations  that  he  forgot  his  own,  like  a  generous  little 
man. 

'.'  Shake  me  again,  if  you  want  to ;  I  know  I  was 
very  bad  to  tag  and  lose  Sanch.  I  never  will  any  more, 
and  I  'm  so  sorry,  I  don't  know  what  to  do,''  answered 
Bab,  completely  bowed  down  by  this  magnanimity. 

"  Never  mind ;  you  just  wipe  up  your  face  and  come 
along,  and  we  '11  tell  Ma  all  about  it,  and  she  '11  fix  us 
as  nice  as  can  be.  I  shouldn't  wonder  if  Sanch  got 
home  now  before  we  did,"  said  Ben,  cheering  himself 
as  well  as  her  by  the  fond  hope. 

"  I  don't  believe  /  ever  shall.  I  'm  so  tired  my  legs 
won't  go,  and  the  water  in  my  boots  makes  them  feel 


SOMEBODY    GETS  LOST.  163 

dreadfully.  I  wish  that  boy  would  wheel  me  a  piece. 
Don't  you  s'pose  he  would?"  asked  Bab,  wearily  pick- 
ing herself  up  as  a  tall  lad  trundling  a  barrow  came  out 
of  a  yard  near  by. 

"  Hullo,  Joslyn !  "  said  Ben,  recognizing  the  boy  as 
one  of  the  "hill  fellows"  who  came  to  town  Saturdaj 
nights  for  play  or  business. 

"  Hullo,  Brown ! "  responded  the  other,  arresting  his 
squeaking  progress  with  signs  of  surprise  at  the  moist 
tableau  before  him. 

"  Where  goin'  ?  "  asked  Ben  witn  masculine  brevity. 

"  Got  to  carry  this  home,  hang  the  old  thing ! " 

"Whereto?" 

"  Batchelor's,  down  yonder,"  and  the  boy  pointed  to 
a  farm-house  at  the  foot  of  the  next  hill. 

"  Goin'  that  way,  take  it  right  along." 

"  What  for?"  questioned  the  prudent  youth,  distrust- 
ing such  unusual  neighborliness. 

"She's  tired,  wants  a  ride;  I'll  leave  it  all  right, 
true  as  I  live  and  breathe,"  explained  Ben,  half 
ashamed  yet  anxious  to  get  his  little  responsibility 
home  as  soon  as  possible,  for  mishaps  seemed  to 
thicken. 

"  Ho,  you  couldn't  cart  her  all  that  way !  she's  most 
as  heavj  as  a  bag  of  meal,"  jeered  the  taller  lad,  amused 
at  the  proposition. 

"I'm  stronger  than  most  fellers  of  my  size.  Try, 
if  I  ain't,"  and  Ben  squared  off  in  such  scientific  style 
that  Joslyn  responded  with  sudden  amiability,  — 

"  All  right,  let 's  see  you  do  it." 

Bab  huddled  into  her  new  equipage  without  the  least 
fear,  and  Ben  trundled  her  off  at  a  good  pace,  while  the 


164  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

boy  retired  to  the  shelter  of  a  barn  to  watch  their  prog- 
ress, glad  to  be  rid  of  an  irksome  errand. 

At  first,  all  went  well,  for  the  way  was  down  hill,  and 
the  wheel  squeaked  briskly  round  and  round ;  Bat 
smiled  gratefully  upon  her  bearer,  and  Ben  "  went  in  on 
his  muscle  with  a  will,"  as  he  expressed  it.  But  pres- 
ently the  road  grew  sandy,  began  to  ascend,  and  the 
load  seemed  to  grow  heavier  with  every  step. 

"  I  '11  get  out  now.  It 's  real  nice,  but  I  guess  I  am 
too  heavy,"  said  Bab,  as  the  face  before  her  got  redder 
and  redder,  and  the  breath  began  to  come  in  puffs. 

"Sit  still.  He  said  I  couldn't.  I'm  not  going  to 
give  in  with  him  looking  on,"  panted  Ben,  and  he  pushed 
gallantly  up  the  rise,  over  the  grassy  lawn  to  the  side 
gate  of  the  Batchelors'  door-yard,  with  his  head  down, 
teeth  set,  and  every  muscle  of  his  slender  bod}7  braced 
to  the  task. 

"  Did  ever  }re  see  the  like  of  that  now?    Ah,  ha ! 

'  The  streets  were  so  wide,  and  the  lanes  were  so  narry, 
He  brought  his  wife  home  on  a  little  wheelbarry.' " 

sung  a  voice  with  an  accent  which  made  Ben  drop  his 
load  and  push  back  his  hat,  to  see  Pat's  red  head  looking 
over  the  fence. 

To  have  his  enemy  behold  him  then  and  there  was 
the  last  bitter  drop  in  poor  Ben's  cup  of  humiliation. 
A  shrill  approving  whistle  from  the  hill  was  some  com- 
fort, however,  and  gave  him  spirit  to  help  Bab  out  with 
composure,  though  his  hands  were  blistered  and  he  had 
hardly  breath  enough  to  issue  the  command,  — 
"  Go  along  home,  and  don't  mind  him." 
"Nice  child er,  ye  are,  runnin'  off  this  way,  settin 


SOMEBODY  GETS  LOST.  165 

the  women  disthracted,  and  me  wastin'  me  time  coram 
after  ye  when  I  'd  be  milkin'  airly  so  I  'd  get  a  bit  of 
pleasure  the  day,"  grumbled  Pat,  coming  up  to  untie 
the  Duke,  whose  Roman  nose  Ben  had  already  recog- 
nized, as  well  as  the  roomy  chaise  standing  before  the 
door. 

"Did  Billy  tell  you  about  us? "asked  Bab>  gladly 
following  toward  this  welcome  refuge. 

"Faith  he  did,  and  the  Squire  sint  me  to  fetch  ye 
home  quiet  and  aisy.  When  ye  found  me,  I'd  jist 
stopped  here  to  borry  a  light  for  me  pipe.  Up  wid  ye, 
b'y,  and  not  be  wastin*  me  time  stramashin'  after  a 
spalpeen  that  I  'd  like  to  lay  me  whip  over,"  said  Pat, 
gruffly,  as  Ben  came  along,  having  left  the  barrow  in 
the  shed. 

"  Don't  you  wish  you  could?  You  needn't  wait  for 
me  ;  I  '11  come  when  I  'm  ready,"  answered  Ben,  dodg- 
ing round  the  chaise,  bound  not  to  mind  Pat,  if  he 
spent  the  night  by  the  road-side  in  consequence. 

"  Bedad,  and  I  won't  then.  It 's  lively  ye  are  ;  but 
four  legs  is  better  than  two,  as  ye  '11  find  this  night,  me 
young  man." 

With  that  he  whipped  up  and  was  off  before  Bab 
could  say  a  word  to  persuade  Ben  to  humble  himself 
for  the  sake  of  a  ride.  She  lamented  and  Pat  chuckled, 
both  forgetting  what  an  agile  monkey  the  boy  was,  and 
as  neither  looked  back,  they  were  unaware  that  Master 
Ben  was  hanging  on  behind  among  the  straps  and 
springs,  making  derisive  grimaces  at  his  unconscious 
foe  through  the  little  glass  in  the  leathern  back. 

At  the  lodge  gate  Ben  jumped  down  to  run  before 
with  whoops  of  naughty  satisfaction,  which  brought  the 


166  UNDER   THE  LILACS. 

anxious  waiters  to  the  door  in  a  flock ;  so  Pat  could 
only  shake  his  fist  at  the  exulting  little  rascal  as  he 
drove  away,  leaving  the  wanderers  to  be  welcomed  as 
warmly  as  if  they  were  a  pair  of  model  children. 

Mrs.  Moss  had  not  been  very  much  troubled  after  all ; 
for  Cy  had  told  her  that  Bab  went  after  Ben,  and  Billy 
had  lately  reported  her  safe  arrival  among  them,  so, 
mother-like,  she  fed,  dried,  and  warmed  the  runaways, 
before  she  scolded  them. 

Even  then,  the  lecture  was  a  mild  one,  for  when  they 
tried  to  tell  the  adventures  which  to  them  seemed  so  ex- 
citing, not  to  say  tragical,  the  effect  astonished  them 
immensely,  as  their  audience  went  into  gales  of  laugh- 
ter, especially  at  the  wheelbarrow  episode,  which  Bab 
insisted  on  telling,  with  grateful  minuteness,  to  Ben's 
confusion.  Thorny  shouted,  and  even  tender-hearted 
Betty  forgot  her  tears  over  the  lost  dog  to  join  in  the 
familiar  melody  when  Bab  mimicked  Pat's  quotation 
from  Mother  Goose. 

"  We  must  not  laugh  any  more,  or  these  naughty 
children  will  think  they  have  done  something  very 
clever  in  running  away,"  said  Miss  Celia,  when  the  fun 
subsided,  adding  soberly,  "  I  am  displeased,  but  I  will 
say  nothing,  for  I  think  Ben  is  already  punished 
enough." 

"Guess  I  am,"  muttered  Ben,  with  a  choke  in  his 
voice  as  he  glanced  toward  the  empty  mat  where  a  dear 
curly  bunch  used  to  lie  with  a  bright  eye  twinkling  out 
of  the  middle  of  it. 


CHAPTER    XV. 

BEN'S  RIDE. 

GREAT  was  the  mourning  for  Sancho,  because  his 
talents  and  virtues  made  him  universally  admired 
and  beloved.  Miss  Celia  advertised,  Thorny  offered 
rewards,  and  even  surly  Pat  kept  a  sharp  look-out  for 
poodle  dogs  when  he  went  to  market ;  but  no  Sancho  or 
any  trace  of  him  appeared.  Ben  was  inconsolable,  and 
sternly  said  it  served  Bab  right  when  the  dog-wood 
poison  affected  both  face  and  hands.  Poor  Bab  thought 
so,  too,  and  dared  ask  no  sympathy  from  him,  though 
Thorny  eagerly  prescribed  plantain  leaves,  and  Betty 
kept  her  supplied  with  an  endless  succession  of  them 
steeped  in  cream  and  pitying  tears.  This  treatment 
was  so  successful  that  the  patient  soon  took  her  place 
in  society  as  well  as  ever,  but  for  Ben's  affliction  there 
was  no  cure,  and  the  boy  really  suffered  in  his  spirits. 

1 '  I  don't  think  it 's  fair  that  I  should  have  so  much 
trouble,  —  first  losing  father  and  then  Sanch.  If  it 
wasn't  for  Lita  and  Miss  Celia,  I  don't  believe  I  could 
stand  it,"  he  said,  one  day,  in  a  fit  of  despair,  about  a 
week  after  the  sad  event. 

"  Oh,  come  now,  don't  give  up  so,  old  fellow.  TVe  '11 
find  him  if  he  's  alive,  and  if  he  isn't  I  '11  try  and  get 
you  another  as  good,"  answered  Thorny,  with  a  friendly 


168  UNDER    THE    LILACS. 

slap  on  the  shoulder,  as  Ben  sat  disconsolately  among 
the  beans  he  had  been  hoeing. 

"  As  if  there  ever  could  be  another  half  as  good !  " 
cried  Ben,  indignant  at  the  idea  ;  "  or  as  if  I  'd  ever  try 
to  fill  his  place  with  the  best  and  biggest  dog  that  ever 
wagged  a  tail !  No,  sir,  there  's  only  one  Sanch  in  all 
the  world,  and  if  I  can't  have  him  I  '11  never  have  a 
dog  again." 

"  Try  some  other  sort  of  pet,  then.  You  may  have 
any  of  mine  you  like.  Have  the  peacocks ;  do  now," 
urged  Thorny,  full  of  boyish  sympathy  and  good-will. 

"  They  are  dreadful  pretty,  but  I  don't  seem  to  care 
about  'em,  thank  you,"  replied  the  mourner. 

"  Have  the  rabbits,  all  of  them,"  which  was  a  hand- 
some offer  on  Thorny's  part,  for  there  were  a  dozen  at 
least. 

"They  don't  love  a  fellow  as  a  dog  does;  all  they 
care  for  is  stuff  to  eat  and  dirt  to  burrow  in.  I  'm  sick 
of  rabbits."  And  well  he  might  be,  for  he  had  had  the 
charge  of  them  ever  since  they  came,  and  any  boy  who 
has  ever  kept  bunnies  knows  what  a  care  they  are. 

"  So  am  I !  Guess  we  '11  have  an  auction  and  sell 
out.  Would  Jack  be  a  comfort  to  you?  If  he  will, 
you  may  have  him.  I  'm  so  well  now,  I  can  walk,  or 
ride  any  thing,"  added  Thorny,  in  a  burst  of  generosity. 

"  Jack  couldn't  be  with  me  always,  as  Sanch  was, 
and  I  couldn't  keep  him  if  I  had  him." 

Ben  tried  to  be  grateful,  but  nothing  short  of  Lita 
would  have  healed  his  wounded  heart,  and  she  was  not 
Thorny's  to  give,  or  he  would  probably  have  offered  her 
to  his  afflicted  Mend. 

"  Well,  no,  you  couldn't  take  Jack  to  bed  with  you. 


BEN'S  RIDE.  109 

or  keep  him  up  in  your  room,  and  I  'm  afraid  he  would 
never  learn  to  do  any  thing  clever.  I  do  wish  I  had 
something  you  wanted,  I  'd  so  love  to  give  it  to  you.'" 

He  spoke  so  heartily  and  was  so  kind  that  Ben  looked 
up,  feeling  that  he  had  given  him  one  of  the  sweetest 
things  in  the  world  —  friendship  ;  he  wanted  to  tell  him 
bo,  but  did  not  know  how  to  do  it,  so  caught  up  his  hoe 
and  fell  to  work,  saying,  in  a  tone  Thorny  understood 
better  than  words,  — 

"You  are  real  good  to  me  —  never  mind,  I  won't 
worry  about  it ;  only  it  seems  extra  hard  coming  so  soon 
after  the  other  —  " 

He  stopped  there,  and  a  bright  drop  fell  on  the  bean 
leaves,  to  shine  like  dew  till  Ben  saw  clearly  enough  to 
bury  it  out  of  sight  in  a  great  hurry. 

"By  Jove!  I'll  find  that  dog,  if  he  is  out  of  the 
ground.  Keep  your  spirits  up,  my  lad,  and  we  '11  have 
the  dear  old  fellow  back  yet." 

With  which  cheering  prophecy  Thorny  went  off  to  rack 
his  brains  as  to  what  could  be  done  about  the  matter. 

Half  an  hour  afterward,  the  sound  of  a  hand-organ  in 
the  avenue  roused  him  from  the  brown  study  into  which 
he  had  fallen  as  he  lay  on  the  newly  mown  grass  of  the 
lawn.  Peeping  over  the  wall,  Thorny  reconnoitred, 
and,  finding  the  organ  a  good  one,  the  man  a  pleasant- 
faced  Italian,  and  the  monke}^  a  lively  animal,  he  ordered 
them  all  in,  as  a  delicate  attention  to  Ben,  for  music 
and  monkey  together  might  suggest  soothing  memories 
of  the  past,  and  so  be  a  comfort. 

In  they  came  by  way  of  the  Lodge,  escorted  by  Bab 
and  Betty,  full  of  glee,  for  hand-organs  were  rare  in 
those  parts,  and  the  children  delighted  in  them.     Smil- 


170  UNDER    TR&   LILACS. 

ing  till  his  white  teeth  shone  and  his  black  eyes  sparkled, 
the  man  played  away  while  the  monkey  made  his  pathetic 
little  bows,  and  picked  up  the  pennies  Thorny  threw  him. 

"  It  is  warm,  and  37ou  look  tired.  Sit  down  and  I  '11 
get  you  some  dinner,"  said  the  young  master,  pointing 
to  the  seat  which  now  stood  near  the  great  gate. 

With  thanks  in  broken  English  the  man  gladly  obeyed, 
and  Ben  begged  to  be  allowed  to  make  Jacko  equally 
comfortable,  explaining  that  he  knew  all  about  monkeys 
and  what  they  liked.  So  the  poor  thing  was  freed  from 
his  cocked  hat  and  uniform,  fed  with  bread  and  milk, 
and  allowed  to  curl  himself  up  in  the  cool  grass  for  a 
nap,  looking  so  like  a  tired  little  old  man  in  a  fur  coat 
that  the  children  were  never  weary  of  watching  him. 

Meantime,  Miss  Celia  had  come  out,  and  was  talking 
Italian  to  Giacomo  in  a  way  that  delighted  his  homesick 
heart.  She  had  been  to  Naples,  and  could  understand 
his  longing  for  the  lovely  city  of  his  birth,  so  they  had 
a  little  chat  in  the  language  which  is  all  music,  and  the 
good  fellow  was  so  grateful  that  he  played  for  the 
children  to  dance  till  they  were  glad  to  stop,  lingering 
afterward  as  if  he  hated  to  set  out  again  upon  his  lonely, 
dusty  walk. 

"  I  'd  rather  like  to  tramp  round  with  him  for  a  week 
or  so.  Could  make  enough  to  live  on  as  easy  as  not,  if 
I  only  had  Sanch  to  show  off,"  said  Ben,  as  he  was 
coaxing  Jacko  into  the  suit  which  he  detested. 

"  You  go  wid  me,  yes?"  asked  the  man,  nodding  and 
smiling,  well  pleased  at  the  prospect  of  company,  for 
his  quick  eye  and  what  the  boys  let  fall  in  their  tall? 
showed  him  that  Ben  was  not  one  of  them. 

"  If  I  had  my  dog  I  'd  love  to,"  and  with  sad  eager- 


BEN'S   RIDE.  171 

ness  Ben  told  the  tale  of  his  loss,  for  the  thought  of  it 
was  never  long  out  of  his  mind. 

"  I  tink  I  see  droll  dog  like  he,  way  off  in  New  York. 
He  do  leetle  trick  wid  letter,  and  dance,  and  go  on  he 
head,  and  many  tings  to  make  laugh,"  said  the  man, 
when  he  had  listened  to  a  list  of  Sanch's  beauties  and 
accomplishments . 

44  Who  had  him?"  asked  Thorny,  full  of  interest  at 
once. 

UA  man  I  not  know.  Cross  fellow  what  beat  him 
when  he  do  letters  bad." 

"  Did  he  spell  his  name?"  cried  Ben,  breathlessly. 

"No;  that  for  why  man  beat  him.  He  name  Gen- 
erale,  and  he  go  spell  Sancho  all  times,  and  cry  when 
whip  fall  on  him.  Ha  !  yes  !  that  name  true  one  ;  not 
Generale?"  and  the  man  nodded,  waved  his  hands, 
and  showed  his  teeth,  almost  as  much  excited  as  the 
boys. 

"It's  Sanch !  let's  go  and  get  him  now,  right  off ! " 
cried  Ben,  in  a  fever  to  be  gone. 

44  A  hundred  miles  away,  and  no  clew  but  this  man's 
story?  We  must  wait  a  little,  Ben,  and  be  sure  before 
we  set  out,"  said  Miss  Celia,  ready  to  do  almost  any 
thing,  but  not  so  certain  as  the  boys.  "  What  sort  of 
a  dog  was  it?  A  large,  curly,  white  poodle,  with  a 
queer  tail?"  she  asked  of  Giacomo. 

44  No,  Signorina  mia,  he  no  curly,  no  wite  ;  he  black, 
smooth  dog,  littel  tail,  small,  so ; "  and  the  man  held 
up  one  brown  finger  with  a  gesture  which  suggested  a 
short,  wagging  tail. 

44  There,  you  see  how  mistaken  we  were.  Dogs  are 
often  named  Sancho,  especially  Spanish  poodles ;    for 


172  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

the  original  Sancho  was  a  Spaniard,  you  know.  This 
dog  is  not  ours,  and  I'm  so  sorry." 

The  boys'  faces  had  fallen  dismally  as  their  hope  was 
destroj^ed  ;  but  Ben  would  not  give  up.  For  him  there 
was  and  could  be  only  one  Sancho  in  the  world,  and 
his  quick  wits  suggested  an  explanation  which  no  one 
else  thought  of. 

"  It  may  be  my  dog,  —  they  color  'em  as  we  used  to 
paint  over  trick  horses.  I  told  you  he  was  a  valuable 
chap,  and  those  that  stole  him  hide  him  that  wa}r,  else 
he'd  be  no  use,  don't  you  see?  because  we'd  know  him." 

"  But  the  black  dog  had  no  tail,"  began  Thorny, 
longing  to  be  convinced,  but  still  doubtful. 

Ben  shivered  as  if  the  mere  thought  hurt  him,  as  he 
said,  in  a  grim  tone,  — 

u  They  might  have  cut  Sanch's  off." 

"  Oh,  no  !  no  !  they  mustn't,  —  they  wouldn't ! " 

4 '  How  could  any  one  be  so  wicked  ?  "  cried  Bab  and 
Betty,  horrified  at  the  suggestion. 

"  You  don't  know  what  such  fellows  would  do  to  make 
all  safe,  so  they  could  use  a  dog  to  earn  their  living  for 
em,"  said  Ben,  with  nrysterious  significance,  quite  for- 
getting in  his  wrath  that  he  had  just  proposed  to  get 
his  own  living  in  that  way  himself. 

"He  no  3'our  dog?  Sony  I  not  find  him  for  you. 
Addio,  signorina  !  Grazia,  signor  !  Buon  giorno,  buon 
giorno ! "  and,  kissing  his  hand,  the  Italian  shouldered 
organ  and  monkey,  ready  to  go. 

Miss  Celia  detained  him  long  enough  to  give  him 
her  address,  and  beg  him  to  let  her  know  if  he  met 
poor  Sanch  in  any  of  his  wanderings  ;  for  such  itinerant 
showmen  often  cross   each  other's  paths.      Ben   and 


BEN'S   RIDE.  173 

Thorny  walked  to  the  school-corner  with  him,  getting 
more  exact  information  about  the  black  dog  and  his 
owner,  for  they  had  no  intention  of  giving  it  up  so 
soon. 

That  very  evening,  Thorny  wrote  to  a  boy  cousin  in 
New  York,  giving  all  the  particulars  of  the  case,  and 
begging  him  to  hunt  up  the  man,  investigate  the  dog, 
and  see  that  the  police  made  sure  that  every  thing  was 
right.  Much  relieved  by  this  performance,  the  bo}'S 
waited  anxiously  for  a  reply,  and  when  it  came  found 
little  comfort  in  it.  Cousin  Horace  had  done  his  duty 
like  a  man,  but  regretted  that  he  could  only  report  a 
failure.  The  owner  of  the  black  poodle  was  a  suspicious 
character,  but  told  a  straight  story,  how  he  had  bought 
the  dog  from  a  stranger,  and  exhibited  him  with  success 
till  he  was  stolen.  Knew  nothing  of  his  history,  and 
was  very  sorry  to  lose  him,  for  he  was  a  remarkably 
clever  beast. 

"I  told  my  dog-man  to  look  about  for  him,  but  he 
says  he  has  probably  been  killed,  with  ever  so  many 
more ;  so  there  is  an  end  of  it,  and  I  call  it  a  mean 
shame." 

"  Good  for  Horace  !  I  told  you  he  'd  do  it  up  thor- 
oughly and  see  the  end  of  it,"  said  Thorny,  as  he  read 
that  paragraph  in  the  deeply  interesting  letter. 

"  May  be  the  end  of  that  dog,  but  not  of  mine.  I  '11 
bet  he  ran  away ;  and  if  it  was  Sanch,  he  '11  come  home. 
You  see  if  he  doesn't ! "  cried  Ben,  refusing  to  believe 
that  all  was  over. 

"A  hundred  miles  off?  Oh,  he  couldn't  find  you 
without  help,  smart  as  he  is,"  answered  Thorny,  in- 
credulously. 


174  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

Ben  looked  discouraged,  but  Miss  Celia  cheered  him 
up  again  by  saying,  — 

u  Yes,  he  could.  My  father  had  a  friend  who  left 
a  little  dog  in  Paris ;  and  the  creature  found  her  in 
Milan,  and  died  of  fatigue  next  day.  That  was  very 
wonderful,  but  true ;  and  I  've  no  doubt  that  if  Sanch 
is  alive  he  will  come  home.  Let  us  hope  so,  and  be 
happy  while  we  wait." 

"  We  will ! "  said  the  boys  ;  and  day  after  day  looked 
for  the  wanderer's  return,  kept  a  bone  ready  in  the  old 
place  if  he  should  arrive  at  night,  and  shook  his  mat  to 
keep  it  soft  for  his  weary  bones  when  he  came.  But 
weeks  passed,  and  still  no  Sanch. 

Something  else  happened,  however,  so  absorbing 
that  he  was  almost  forgotten  for  a  time ;  and  Ben 
found  a  way  to  repay  a  part  of  all  he  owed  his  best 
friend. 

Miss  Celia  went  off  for  a  ride  one  afternoon,  and  an 
hour  afterward,  as  Ben  sat  in  the  porch  reading,  Lita 
dashed  into  the  yard  with  the  reins  dangling  about  her 
legs,  the  saddle  turned  round,  and  one  side  covered 
with  black  mud,  showing  that  she  had  been  down.  For 
a  minute,  Ben's  heart  stood  still ;  then  he  flung  away 
his  book,  ran  to  the  horse,  and  saw  at  once  by  her 
heaving  flanks,  dilated  nostrils,  and  wet  coat,  that  she 
must  have  come  a  long  way  and  at  full  speed. 

"  She  has  had  a  fall,  but  isn't  hurt  or  frightened," 
thought  the  boy,  as  the  pretty  creature  rubbed  her  nose 
against  his  shoulder,  pawed  the  ground,  and  champed 
her  bit,  as  if  she  tried  to  tell  him  all  about  the  disaster, 
whatever  it  was. 

"Lita,    where's    Miss    Celia?"    ho    askod     looking 


BEN'S  RIDE.  175 

straight  into  the  intelligent  eyes,  which  were  troubled 
but  not  wild. 

Lita  threw  up  her  head,  and  neighed  loud  and  clear, 
as  if  she  called  her  mistress  ;  and,  turning,  would  have 
gone  again  if  Ben  had  not  caught  the  reins  and  held 
lier. 

"All  right,  we'll  find  her;"  and,  pulling  off  the 
broken  saddle,  kicking  away  his  shoes,  and  ramming 
his  hat  firmly  on,  Ben  was  up  like  a  flash,  tingling  all 
over  with  a  sense  of  power  as  he  felt  the  bare  back 
between  his  knees,  and  caught  the  roll  of  Lita's  eye  as 
she  looked  round  with  an  air  of  satisfaction. 

44  Hi,  there  !  Mrs.  Moss  !  Something  has  happened 
to  Miss  Celia,  and  I  'm  going  to  find  her.  Thorny  is 
asleep ;  tell  him  easy,  and  1 11  come  back  as  soon  as 
I  can ! " 

Then,  giving  Lita  her  head,  he  was  off  before  the 
startled  woman  had  time  to  do  more  than  wring  hei 
hands  and  cry  out,  — 

"  Go  for  the  Squire  !     Oh,  what  shall  we  do? " 

As  if  she  knew  exactly  what  was  wanted  of  her,  Lita 
went  back  the  way  she  had  come,  as  Ben  could  see  by 
the  fresh,  irregular  tracks  that  cut  up  the  road  where 
she  had  galloped  for  help.  For  a  mile  or  more  they 
went,  then  she  paused  at  a  pair  of  bars,  which  were 
let  down  to  allow  the  carts  to  pass  into  the  wide  hay- 
fields  beyond.  On  she  went  again,  cantering  across  the 
new-mown  turf  toward  a  brook,  across  which  she  had 
evidently  taken  a  leap  before  ;  for,  on  the  further  side, 
at  a  place  where  cattle  went  to  drink,  the  mud  showed 
«igns  of  a  fall. 

"Yon  were  a  fool  to  try  there;  but  where  is  Miss 


176  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

Celia?"  said  Ben,  who  talked  to  animals  as  if  they 
were  people,  and  was  understood  much  better  than 
any  one  not  used  to  their  companionship  would  im- 
agine. 

Now  Lita  seemed  at  a  loss,  and  put  her  head  down, 
as  if  she  expected  to  find  her  mistress  where  she  had 
left  her,  somewhere  on  the  ground.  Ben  called,  bul 
there  was  no  answer ;  and  he  rode  slowly  along  the 
brook-side,  looking  far  and  wide  with  anxious  eyes. 

"  Ma}' be  she  wasn't  hurt,  and  has  gone  to  that  house 
to  wait,"  thought  the  boy,  pausing  for  a  last  survey  of 
the  great,  sunny  field,  which  had  no  place  of  shelter  in 
it  but  one  rock  on  the  other  side  of  the  little  stream. 
As  his  eye  wandered  over  it,  something  dark  seemed  to 
blow  out  from  behind  it,  as  if  the  wind  pla}'ed  in  the 
folds  of  a  skirt,  or  a  human  limb  moved.  Away  went 
Lita,  and  in  a  moment  Ben  had  found  Miss  Celia,  lying 
in  the  shadow  of  the  rock,  so  white  and  motionless,  he 
feared  that  she  was  dead.  He  leaped  down,  touched 
her,  spoke  to  her ;  and,  receiving  no  answer,  rushed 
away  to  bring  a  little  water  in  his  leaky  hat  to  sprinkle 
in  her  face,  as  he  had  seen  them  do  when  any  of  the 
riders  got  a  fall  in  the  circus,  or  fainted  from  exhaus- 
tion after  they  left  the  ring,  where  "do  or  die  "  was  the 
motto  all  adopted. 

In  a  minute,  the  blue  eyes  opened,  and  she  recognized 
the  anxious  face  bending  over  her,  saying  faintly,  as 
she  touched  it, — 

"  My  good  little  Ben,  I  knew  you  'd  find  me,  —  I  sent 
L.ta  for  }rou,  — I'm  so  hurt,  I  couldn't  come." 

"  Oh,  where?  What  shall  I  do?  Had  I  better  run 
ip  to  the  house?"  asked  Ben,  overjoyed  to  hear  hej 


BEN'S  RIDE.  177 

speak,  but  much  dismayed  by  her  seeming  helplessness, 
for  he  had  seen  bad  falls,  and  had  them,  too. 

"  I  feel  bruised  all  over,  and  my  arm  is  broken,  I'm 
afraid.  Lita  tried  not  to  hurt  me.  She  slipped,  and 
we  went  down.  I  came  here  into  the  shade,  and  the 
pain  made  me  faint,  I  suppose.  Call  somebody,  and 
get  me  home." 

Then  she  shut  her  e}*es,  and  looked  so  white  that  Ben 
hurried  away,  and  burst  upon  old  Mrs.  Paine,  placidly 
knitting  at  the  end  door,  so  suddenly  that,  as  she  after- 
ward said,  "  It  sca't  her  like  a  clap  o'  thunder." 

"Ain't  a  man  nowheres  around.  All  down  in  the 
big  medder  gettin'  in  hay,"  was  her  reply  to  Ben's 
breathless  demand  for  "  everybody  to  come  and  see 
to  Miss  Celia." 

He  turned  to  mount,  for  he  had  flung  himself  off 
before  Lita  stopped,  but  the  old  lady  caught  his  jacket, 
and  asked  half  a  dozen  questions  in  a  breath. 

4 'Who's  your  folks?  What's  broke?  How 'd  she 
fall?  Where  is  she?  Why  didn't  she  come  right  here ? 
Is  it  a  sunstroke  ?  " 

As  fast  as  words  could  tumble  out  of  his  mouth,  Ben 
answered,  and  then  tried  to  free  himself;  but  the  old 
lady  held  on,  while  she  gave  her  directions,  expressed 
her  sympathy,  and  Offered  her  hospitality  with  inco- 
herent warmth. 

"  Sakes  alive!  poor  dear!  Fetch  her  right  in. 
Liddy,  get  out  the  camphire ;  and,  Melissy,  you  haul 
down  a  bed  to  lay  her  on.  Falls  is  dretful  uncert'in 
things ;  shouldn't  wonder  if  her  back  was  broke. 
Father's  down  yender,  and  he  and  Bijah  will  see 
to  her.      You  go  call  'em,  and  I'll  blow  the  horn  to 


178  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

start  'em  up.  Tell  her  we'd  be  pleased  to  see  her, 
and  it  won't  make  a  mite  of  trouble." 

Ben  heard  no  more,  for  as  Mrs.  Paine  turned  to  take 
down  the  tin  horn  he  was  up  and  away. 

Several  long  and  dismal  toots  sent  Lita  galloping 
through  the  grassy  path  as  the  sound  of  the  trumpet 
excites  a  war-horse,  and  "father  and  Bijah,"  alarmed 
by  the  signal  at  that  hour,  leaned  on  their  rakes  to  sur- 
vey with  wonder  the  distracted-looking  little  horseman 
approaching  like  a  whirlwind. 

"Guess  likely  grandpa's  had  'nother  stroke.  Told 
'em  to  send  over  soon 's  ever  it  come,"  said  the  farmer, 
calmly. 

"Shouldn't  wonder  ef  suthing  was  afire  someVs," 
conjectured  the  hired  man,  surveying  the  horizon  for  a 
cloud  of  smoke. 

Instead  of  advancing  to  meet  the  messenger,  both 
stood  like  statues  in  blue  overalls  and  red  flannel  shirts, 
till  the  boy  arrived  and  told  his  tale. 

"  Sho,  that's  bad,"  said  the  farmer,  anxiously. 

"  That  brook  always  was  the  darndest  place,"  added 
Bijah ;  then  both  men  bestirred  themselves  helpfully, 
the  former  hurrying  to  Miss  Celia  while  the  latter 
brought  up  the  cart  and  made  a  bed  of  hay  to  lay 
her  on. 

"  Now  then,  boy,  you  go  for  the  doctor.  My  women 
folks  will  see  to  the  lady,  and  she  'd  better  keep  quiet 
up  yender  till  we  see  what  the  matter  is,"  said  the 
farmer,  when  the  pale  girl  was  lifted  in  as  carefully  as 
four  strong  arms  could  do  it.  "Hold  on,"  he  added, 
as  Ben  made  one  leap  to  Lita's  back.  "You'll  have 
to  go  to  Berryville.     Dr.  Mills  is  a  master  hand  for 


Ben  and  Lita. 

But  Ben  did  not  hear  her,  for  he  was  off  across  the  fields,  riding  as 
if  life  and  death  depended  upon  his  speed/'  —  Page  179. 


BEN'S  RIDE.  17y 

broken  bones  and  old  Dr.  Babcock  ain't.  'Tisn't  but 
about  three  mile  from  here  to  his  house,  and  you'll 
fetch  him  'fore  there's  any  harm  done  waitin'." 

"  Don't  kill  Lita,"  called  Miss  Celia  from  the  cart,  as 
it  began  to  move. 

But  Ben  did  not  hear  her,  for  he  was  off  across  the 
fields,  riding  as  if  life  and  death  depended  upon  his 
speed. 

"That  boy  will  break  his  neck!"  said  Mr.  Paine, 
standing  still  to  watch  horse  and  rider  go  over  the  wall 
as  if  bent  on  instant  destruction. 

44  No  fear  for  Ben,  he  can  ride  any  thing,  and  Lita 
was  trained  to  leap,"  answered  Miss  Celia,  falling  back 
on  the  hay  with  a  groan,  for  she  had  involuntarily 
raised  her  head  to  see  her  little  squire  dash  away  in 
gallant  style. 

"  I  should  hope  so  ;  regular  jockey,  that  boy.  Never 
see  any  thing  like  it  out  of  a  race-ground,"  and  Farmer 
Paine  strode  on,  still  following  with  his  eye  the  figures 
that  went  thundering  over  the  bridge,  up  the  hill,  out 
of  sight,  leaving  a  cloud  of  dust  behind. 

Now  that  his  mistress  was  safe,  Ben  enjoyed  that 
wild  ride  mightily,  and  so  did  the  bay  mare ;  for  Lita 
had  good  blood  in  her,  and  proved  it  that  day  by  doing 
her  three  miles  in  a  wonderfully  short  time.  People 
jogging  along  in  wagons  and  country  carry-alls,  stared 
amazed  as  the  reckless  pair  went  by.  Women,  pla- 
cidly doing  their  afternoon  sewing  at  the  front  windows, 
dropped  their  needles  to  run  out  with  exclamations  of 
alarm,  sure  some  one  was  being  run  away  with ;  chil- 
dren playing  by  the  roadside  scattered  like  chickens 
before  a  hawk    as  Beu  passed  with  a  warning  whoop. 


180  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

and  bab}T-carriages  were  scrambled  into  door-yards  with 
perilous  rapidity  at  his  approach. 

But  when  he  clattered  into  town,  intense  interest  was 
felt  in  this  barefooted  boy  on  the  foaming  steed,  and  a 
dozen  voices  asked,  "Who's  killed?"  as  he  pulled  up 
at  the  doctor's  gate. 

"Jest  drove  off  that  way ;  Mrs.  Flynn's  baby's  in  a 
fit,"  cried  a  stout  lad}7  from  the  piazza,  never  ceasing 
to  rock,  though  several  passers-by  paused  to  hear  the 
news,  for  she  was  a  doctor's  wife,  and  used  to  the 
arrival  of  excited  messengers  from  all  quarters  at  all 
hours  of  the  day  and  night. 

Deigning  no  reply  to  any  one,  Ben  rode  away,  wish- 
ing he  could  leap  a  yawning  gulf,  scale  a  precipice,  or 
ford  a  raging  torrent,  to  prove  his  devotion  to  Miss 
Celia,  and  his  skill  in  horsemanship.  But  no  dangers 
beset  his  path,  and  he  found  the  doctor  pausing  to 
water  his  tired  horse  at  the  very  trough  where  Bab  and 
Sancho  had  been  discovered  on  that  ever-memorable 
day.  The  story  was  quickly  told,  and,  promising  to  be 
there  as  soon  as  possible,  Dr.  Mills  drove  on  to  relieve 
baby  Flynn's  inner  man,  a  little  disturbed  by  a  bit  of 
soap  and  several  buttons,  upon  which  he  had  privately 
lunched  while  his  mamma  was  busy  at  the  wash-tub. 

Ben  thanked  his  stars,  as  he  had  already  done  more 
than  once,  that  he  knew  how  to  take  care  of  a  horse ; 
for  he  delayed  by  the  watering-place  long  enough  to 
wash  out  Lita's  mouth  with  a  handful  of  wet  grass, 
to  let  her  have  one  swallow  to  clear  her  dusty  throat, 
and  then  went  slowly  back  over  the  breezy  hills,  pat- 
ting and  praising  the  good  creature  for  her  intelligence 
and  speed.     She  knew  well  enough  that  she  had  been 


BEN'S  RIDE.  181 

a  clever  little  mare,  and  tossed  her  head,  arched  hei 
glossy  neck,  and  ambled  daintily  along,  as  conscious 
and  coquettish  as  a  pretty  woman,  looking  round  at 
her  admiring  rider  to  return  his  compliments  by  glances 
of  affection,  and  caressing  sniffs  of  a  velvet  nose  at  his 
bare  feet. 

Miss  Celia  had  been  laid  comfortably  in  bed  by  the 
fanner's  wife  and  daughter  ;  and,  when  the  doctor 
arrived,  bore  the  setting  of  her  arm  bravely.  No  other 
serious  damage  appeared,  and  bruises  soon  heal,  eo 
Ben  was  sent  home  to  comfort  Thorny  with  a  good 
report,  and  ask  the  squire  to  drive  up  in  his  big 
carry-all  for  her  the  next  day,  if  she  was  able  to 
be  moved. 

Mrs.  Moss  had  been  wise  enough  to  say  nothing,  but 
quietly  made  what  preparations  she  could,  and  waited 
for  tidings.  Bab  and  Betty  were  away  berrying,  so  no 
one  had  alarmed  Thorny,  and  he  had  his  afternoon  nap 
in  peace.  —  an  unusually  long  one,  owing  to  the  stillness 
which  prevailed  in  the  absence  of  the  children ;  and 
when  he  awoke  he  lay  reading  for  a  while  before  he 
began  to  wonder  where  every  one  was.  Lounging  out 
to  see,  he  found  Ben  and  Lita  reposing  side  by  side  on 
the  fresh  straw  in  the  loose  box,  which  had  been  made 
for  her  in  the  coach-house.  By  the  pails,  sponges  and 
curry-combs  lying  about,  it  was  evident  that  she  had 
been  refreshed  by  a  careful  washing  and  rubbing 
down,  and  my  lady  was  now  luxuriously  resting  after 
her  labors,  with  her  devoted  groom  half  asleep  close 

by- 

"Well,  of  all  queer  boys  you  are  the  queerest,  to 
spend  this  hot  afternoon  fussing  over  Lita,  just  for  the 


182  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

fun  of  it ! "  cried  Thorny,  looking  in  at  them  with 
much  amusement. 

"If  you  knew  what  we'd  been  doing  }Tou'd  think  1 
ought  to  fuss  over  her,  and  both  of  us  had  a  right  to 
rest ! "  answered  Ben,  rousing  up  as  bright  as  a  button  ; 
for  he  longed  to  tell  his  thrilling  tale,  and  had  with 
difficulty  been  restrained  from  bursting  in  on  Thorny  as 
soon  as  he  arrived. 

He  made  short  work  of  the  story,  but  was  quite  satis- 
fied with  the  sensation  it  produced  ;  for  his  listener  was 
startled,  relieved,  excited  and  charmed,  in  such  rapid 
succession,  that  he  was  obliged  to  sit  upon  the  meal- 
chest  and  get  his  breath  before  he  could  exclaim,  with 
an  emphatic  demonstration  of  his  heels  against  the 
bin,  — 

44 Ben  Brown,  I'll  never  forget  what  you've  done 
for  Celia  this  day,  or  say  4  bow-legs '  again  as  long  as 
I  live!" 

44  George  !  I  felt  as  if  I  had  six  legs  when  we  were 
going  the  pace.  We  were  all  one  piece,  and  had  a  jolly 
spin,  didn't  we,  my  beauty?"  and  Ben  chuckled  as  he 
took  Lita's  head  in  his  lap,  while  she  answered  with  a 
gusty  sigh  that  nearly  blew  him  away. 

44  Like  the  fellow  that  brought  the  good  news  from 
Ghent  to  Aix,"  said  Thorny,  surveying  the  recumbent 
pair  with  great  admiration. 

44  What  fellow?"  asked  Ben,  wondering  if  he  didn't 
mean  Sheridan,  of  whose  ride  he  had  heard. 

44  Don't  you  know  that  piece?  I  spoke  it  at  school. 
Give  it  to  you  now  ;  see  if  it  isn't  a  rouser." 

And,  glad  to  find  a  vent  for  his  excitement,  Thorny 
mounted  the  meal-chest,  to  thunder  out  that  stirring 


BEN'S  RIDE.  183 

ballad  with  such  spirit  that  Lita  pricked  up  her  ears, 
and  Ben  gave  a  shrill  ' '  Hooray !  "  as  the  last  verse 
ended. 

"  And  all  I  remember  is  friends  flocking  round, 
As  I  sat  with  his  head  'twixt  my  knees  on  the  ground, 
And  no  voico  but  was  praising  this  Koland  of  mine, 
As  I  poured  down  his  throat  our  last  measure  of  wine, 
Which  (the  burgesses  voted  by  common  consent) 
Was  no  more  than  his  due  who  brought  good  news  from  Ghent.  * 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

DETECTIVE   THORNTON. 

A  FEW  days  later,  Miss  Celia  was  able  to  go  about 
with  her  arm  in  a  sling,  pale  still,  and  rather  stiff, 
but  so  much  better  than  any  one  expected,  that  all 
agreed  Mr.  Paine  was  right  in  pronouncing  Dr.  Mills 
"  a  master  hand  with  broken  bones."  Two  devoted 
little  maids  waited  on  her,  two  eager  pages  stood  ready 
to  run  her  errands,  and  friendly  neighbors  sent  in 
delicacies  enough  to  keep  these  four  young  persons 
busily  employed  in  disposing  of  them. 

Every  afternoon  the  great  bamboo  lounging  chair 
was  brought  out  and  the  interesting  invalid  conducted 
to  it  by  stout  Randa,  who  was  head  nurse,  and  followed 
by  a  train  of  shawl,  cushion,  foot-stool  and  book 
bearers,  who  buzzed  about  like  swarming  bees  round  a 
new  queen.  When  all  were  settled,  the  little  maids 
sewed  and  the  pages  read  aloud,  with  much  conversa- 
tion by  the  way ;  for  one  of  the  rules  was,  that  all 
should  listen  attentively,  and  if  any  one  did  not  under- 
stand what  was  read,  he  or  she  should  ask  to  have  it 
explained  on  the  spot.  Whoever  could  answer  was  in- 
vited to  do  so,  and  at  the  end  of  the  reading  Miss  Celia 
could  ask  any  she  liked,  or  add  any  explanations  which 
seemed  necessary.      In  this  way   much   pleasure   and 


DETECTIVE    THORNTON.  185 

profit  was  extracted  from  the  tales  Ben  and  Thorny 
read,  and  much  unexpected  knowledge  as  well  as  ignor- 
ance displaj^ed,  not  to  mention  piles  of  neatly  hemmed 
towels  for  which  Bab  and  Betty  were  paid  like  regular 
sewing- women. 

So  vacation  was  not  all  play,  and  the  girls  found 
their  picnics,  berry  parties,  and  "  goin'  a  visitin',"  all 
the  more  agreeable  for  the  quiet  hour  spent  with  Miss 
Celia.  Thorny  had  improved  wonderfully,  and  was  get- 
ting to  be  quite  energetic,  especially  since  his  sister's 
accident ;  for  while  she  was  laid  up  he  was  the  head  of 
the  house,  and  much  enjoyed  his  promotion.  But  Ben 
did  not  seem  to  nourish  as  he  had  done  at  first.  The 
loss  of  Sancho  preyed  upon  him  sadly,  and  the  longing 
to  go  and  find  his  dog  grew  into  such  a  strong  tempta- 
tion that  he  could  hardly  resist  it.  He  said  little  about 
it ;  but  now  and  then  a  word  escaped  him  which  might 
have  enlightened  any  one  who  chanced  to  be  watching 
him.  No  one  was,  just  then,  so  he  brooded  over  this 
fancj7,  day  by  day,  in  silence  and  solitude,  for  there  was 
no  riding  and  driving  now.  Thorny  was  busy  with  his 
sister  faying  to  show  her  that  he  remembered  how  good 
she  had  been  to'  him  when  he  was  ill,  and  the  little  girls 
had  their  own  affairs. 

Miss  Celia  was  the  first  to  observe  the  change,  having 
nothing  to  do  but  he  on  the  sofa  and  amuse  herself  by 
seeing  others  work  or  play.  Ben  was  bright  enough 
at  the  readings,  because  then  he  forgot  his  troubles  ;  but 
when  they  were  over  and  his  various  duties  done,  he 
went  to  his  own  room  or  sought  consolation  with  Lita, 
being  sober  and  quiet,  and  quite  unlike  the  merry 
monkey  all  knew  and  liked  so  well. 


186  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

"  Thorny,  what  is  the  matter  with  Ben?  "  asked  Miss 
Celia,  one  day,  when  she  and  her  brother  were  alone  in 
the  "  green  parlor,"  as  they  called  the  lilac-tree  walk. 

"  Fretting  about  Sanch,  I  suppose.  I  declare  I  wish 
that  dog  had  never  been  born !  Losing  him  has  just 
spoilt  Ben.  Not  a  bit  of  fun  left  in  him,  and  he  won't 
have  any  thing  I  offer  to  cheer  him  up." 

Thorny  spoke  impatiently,  and  knit  his  brows  ovei 
the  pressed  flowers  he  was  neatly  gumming  into  his 
herbal. 

1 '  I  wonder  if  he  has  any  thing  on  his  mind  ?  He 
acts  as  if  he  was  hiding  a  trouble  he  didn't  dare  to  tell. 
Have  you  talked  with  him  about  it  ?  "  asked  Miss  Celia, 
looking  as  if  she  was  hiding  a  trouble  she  did  not  like  to 
tell. 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  poke  him  up  now  and  then,  but  he  gets 
peppery,  so  I  let  him  alone.  May  be  he  is  longing  for  his 
old  circus  again.  Shouldn't  blame  him  much  if  he  was  ; 
it  isn't  very  lively  here,  and  he 's  used  to  excitement, 
3'ou  know." 

"  I  hope  it  isn't  that.  Do  you  think  he  would  slip 
away  without  telling  us,  and  go  back  to  the  old  life 
again  ?  " 

"  Don't  believe  he  would.  Ben  isn't  a  bit  of  a  sneak, 
that 's  why  I  like  him." 

"  Have  you  ever  found  him  sly  or  untrue  in  any  way  ? ' 
asked  Miss  Celia,  lowering  her  voice. 

"  No  ;  he 's  as  fair  and  square  a  fellow  as  I  ever  saw. 
Little  bit  low,  now  and  then,  but  he  doesn't  mean  it, 
and  wants  to  be  a  gentleman,  only  he  never  lived  with 
one  before,  and  it's  all  new  to  him.  I'll  get  him 
polished  up  after  a  while." 


DETECTIVE   THORNTON.  187 

"  Oh,  Thorny,  there  are  three  peacocks  on  the  place, 
and  you  are  the  finest ! "  laughed  Miss  Celia,  as  her 
brother  spoke  in  his  most  condescending  way  with  a  lift 
of  the  e}Tebrows  very  droll  to  see. 

".And  two  donkeys,  and  Ben's  the  biggest,  not  to 
know  when  he  is  well  off  and  happy !  "  retorted  the 
"  gentleman,"  slapping  a  dried  specimen  on  the  page  as 
if  he  were  pounding  discontented  Ben. 

"Come  here  and  let  me  tell  you  something  which 
worries  me.  I  would  not  breathe  it  to  another  soul,  but 
I  feel  rather  helpless,  and  I  dare  say  you  can  manage 
the  matter  better  than  I." 

Looking  much  mystified,  Thorny  went  and  sat  on  the 
stool  at  his  sister's  feet,  while  she  whispered  confiden- 
tially in  his  ear:  "I've  lost  some  money  out  of  my 
drawer,  and  I  'm  so  afraid  Ben  took  it." 

"  But  it 's  always  locked  up  and  you  keep  the  keys  of 
the  drawer  and  the  little  room  ?  " 

"  It  is  gone,  nevertheless,  and  I  've  had  my  keys  safe 
all  the  time." 

"But  why  think  it  is  he  any  more  than  Randa,  or 
Katy ,  or  me  ?  " 

"Because  I  trust  you  three  as  I  do  myself.  I  ve 
known  the  girls  for  years,  and  you  have  no  object  in 
taking  it  since  all  I  have  is  yours,  dear." 

"And  all  mine  is  yours,  of  course.  But,  Celia,  how 
could  he  do  it?  He  can't  pick  locks,  I  know,  for  we 
fussed  over  my  desk  together,  and  had  to  break  it  after 
all." 

"I  never  really  thought  it  possible  till  to-day  when 
you  were  playing  ball  and  it  went  in  at  the  upper  win- 
dow, and  Ben  climbed  up  the  porch  after  it ;  you  re' 


188  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

member  you  said,  '  If  it  had  gone  m  at  the  garret  gable 
you  couldn't  have  done  that  so  well ; '  and  he  answered, 
k  Yes,  I  could,  there  isn't  a  spout  I  can't  shin  up,  or  a 
bit  of  this  roof  I  haven't  been  over.' " 

"  So  he  did  ;  but  there  is  no  spout  near  the  little  room 
window." 

"  There  is  a  tree,  and  such  an  agile  boy  as  Ben  could 
swing  in  and  out  easily.  Now,  Thonry,  I  hate  to  think 
this  of  him,  but  it  has  happened  twice,  and  for  his  own 
sake  I  must  stop  it.  If  he  is  planning  to  run  away, 
money  is  a  good  thing  to  have.  And  he  may  feel  that 
it  is  his  own ;  for  you  know  he  asked  me  to  put  his 
wages  in  the  bank,  and  I  did.  He  may  not  like  to  come 
to  me  for  that,  because  he  can  give  no  good  reason  for 
wanting  it.  I  'm  so  troubled  I  really  don't  know  what 
to  do." 

She  looked  troubled,  and  Thorny  put  his  arms  about 
her  as  if  to  keep  all  worries  but  his  own  away  from  her. 

' '  Don't  you  fret,  Cely,  dear  ;  you  leave  it  to  me.  I  '11 
fix  him  —  ungrateful  little  scamp  !  " 

"  That  is  not  the  way  to  begin.  I  am  afraid  you  will 
make  him  angry  and  hurt  his  feelings,  and  then  we  can 
do  nothing." 

' '  Bother  his  feelings !  I  shall  just  say,  calmly  and 
noolly :  '  Now,  look  here,  Ben,  hand  over  the  money  you 
took  out  of  my  sister's  drawer,  and  we  '11  let  you  of! 
easy,'  or  something  like  that." 

"  It  wouldn't  do,  Thorny ;  his  temper  would  be  up  in 
a  minute,  and  away  he  would  go  before  we  could  find 
out  whether  he  was  guilty  or  not.  I  wish  I  knew  how 
to  manage." 

"Let  me  think,"  and  Thorny  leaned  his  chin  on  the 


DETECTIVE   THORNTON.  189 

arm  of  the  chair,  staring  hard  at  the  knocker  as  if  he 
expected  the  lion's  mouth  to  open  with  words  of  counsel 
then  and  there. 

"By  Jove,  I  do  believe  Ben  took  it!"  he  broke  out 
suddenly  ;  "  for  when  I  went  to  his  room  this  morning 
to  see  why  he  didn't  come  and  do  nry  boots,  he  shut  the 
drawer  in  his  bureau  as  quick  as  a  flash,  and  looked  red 
and  queer,  for  I  didn't  knock,  and  sort  of  startled  him.n 

"He  wouldn't  be  likely  to  put  stolen  money  there. 
Ben  is  too  wise  for  that." 

"  He  wouldn't  keep  it  there,  but  he  might  be  looking 
at  it  and  pitch  it  in  when  I  called.  He  's  hardly  spoken 
to  me  since,  and  when  I  asked  him  what  his  flag  was  at 
half-mast  for,  he  wouldn't  answer.  Besides,  you  know 
in  the  reading  this  afternoon  he  didn't  listen,  and  when 
you  asked  what  he  was  thinking  about,  he  colored  up 
and  muttered  something  about  Sanch.  I  tell  you,  Celia, 
it  looks  bad  —  very  bad,"  and  Thorny  shook  his  head 
with  a  wise  air. 

"It  does,  and  yet  we  may  be  all  wrong.  Let  us 
wait  a  little  and  give  the  poor  boy  a  chance  to  clear 
himself  before  we  speak.  I  'd  rather  lose  my  money 
than  suspect  him  falsely." 

"  How  much  was  it?  " 

"  Eleven  dollars ;  a  one  went  first,  and  1  supposed 
I  'd  miscalculated  somewhere  when  I  took  some  out ; 
but  when  I  missed  a  ten,  I  felt  that  I  ought  not  to  let  it 
pass." 

"Look  here,  sister,  you  just  put  the  case  into  my 
hands  and  let  me  work  it  up.  I  won't  say  any  thing  to 
Ben  till  you  give  the  word  ;  but  I  '11  watch  him,  and  now 
that  my  eyes  are  open,  it  won't  be  easy  to  deceive  me." 


IhO  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

Thorny  was  evidently  pleased  with  the  new  play  of 
detective,  and  intended  to  distinguish  himself  in  that 
line  ;  but  when  Miss  Celia  asked  how  he  meant  to  begin, 
he  could  only  respond  with  a  blank  expression  :  "  Don't 
know  !  You  give  me  the  keys  and  leave  a  bill  or  two 
in  the  drawer,  and  maybe  I  can  find  him  out  somehow." 

So  the  keys  were  given,  and  the  little  dressing-room 
where  the  old  secretaiy  stood  was  closely  watched  for  a 
day  or  two.  Ben  cheered  up  a  trifle,  which  looked  as  if 
he  knew  an  eye  was  upon  him,  but  otherwise  he  went 
on  as  usual,  and  Miss  Celia,  feeling  a  little  guilty  at 
even  harboring  a  suspicion  of  him,  was  kind  and  patient 
with  his  moods. 

Thorny  was  very  funny  in  the  unnecessary  mystery 
and  fuss  he  made ;  his  affectation  of  careless  indiffer- 
ence to  Ben's  movements  and  his  clumsy  attempts  to 
watch  every  one  of  them ;  his  dodgings  up  and  down 
stairs,  ostentatious  clanking  of  ke3Ts,  and  the  elaborate 
traps  he  set  to  catch  his  thief,  such  as  throwing  his  ball 
in  at  the  dressing-room  window  and  sending  Ben  up  the 
tree  to  get  it,  which  he  did,  thereby  proving  beyond  a 
doubt  that  he  alone  could  have  taken  the  money,  Thorny 
thought.  Another  deep  discovery  was,  that  the  old 
liawer  was  so  shrunken  that  the  lock  could  be  pressed 
down  by  slipping  a  knife-blade  between  the  hasp  and 
socket. 

"  Now  it  is  as  clear  as  day,  and  you  'd  better  let  nu 
speak,"  he  said,  full  of  pride  as  well  as  regret,  at  this 
triumphant  success  of  his  first  attempt  as  a  detective. 

"Not  yet,  and  you  need  do  nothing  more.  I'm 
afraid  it  was  a  mistake  of  mine  to  let  you  do  this  ;  and 
if  it  has  spoiled  your  friendship  with  Ben,  I  shall  be 


DETECTIVE   THORNTON.  19l 

very  sorry ;  for  I  do  not  think  he  is  guilty,'*  answered 
Miss  Celia. 

"  Why  not?  "  and  Thorny  looked  annoyed. 

"I've  watched  also,  and  he  doesn't  act  like  a  deceit- 
ful boy.  To-day  I  asked  him  if  he  wanted  any  money,  or 
should  I  put  what  I  owe  him  with  the  rest,  and  he  looked 
me  straight  in  the  face  with  such  honest,  grateful  e}*es,  I 
could  not  doubt  him  when  he  said  :  4  Keep  it,  please,  I 
don't  need  any  thing  here,  3^011  are  all  so  good  to  me." 

"  Now,  Celia,  don't  you  be  soft-hearted.  He  's  a  sly 
little  dog,  and  knows  my  eye  is  on  him.  When  /  asked 
him  what  he  saw  in  the  dressing-room,  after  he  brought 
out  the  ball,  and  looked  sharply  at  him,  he  laughed, 
and  said  :  '  Only  a  mouse/  as  saucy  as  you  please." 

4 'Do  set  the  trap  there,  I  heard  the  mouse  nibbling 
last  night,  and  it  kept  me  awake.  We  must  have  a  cat 
or  we  shall  be  overrun." 

"  Well,  shall  I  give  Ben  a  good  blowing  up,  or  will 
you?"  asked  Thorny,  scorning  such  poor  prey  as  mice, 
and  bound  to  prove  that  he  was  in  the  right. 

"  I  '11  let  you  know  what  I  have  decided  in  the  morn- 
ing. Be  kind  to  Ben,  meantime,  or  I  shall  feel  as  if  I 
had  done  you  harm  by  letting  you  watch  him." 

Sc  it  was  left  for  that  day,  and  by  the  next,  Miss 
Celia  had  made  up  her  mind  to  speak  to  Ben.  She  was 
just  going  down  to  breakfast  when  the  sound  of  loud 
voices  made  her  pause  and  listen.  It  came  from  Ben's 
room,  where  the  two  boy3  seemed  to  be  disputing  about 
something. 

"  I  hope  Thorny  has  kept  his  promise,"  she  thought, 
and  hurried  through  the  back  entry,  fearing  a  general 
explosion. 


192  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

Ben's  chamber  was  at  the  end,  and  she  could  see  and 
hear  what  was  going  on  before  she  was  near  enough  to 
interfere.  Ben  stood  against  his  closet  door  looking 
as  fierce  and  red  as  a  turkey-cock ;  Thorny  sternly  con- 
fronted him,  saying  in  an  excited  tone,  and  with  a 
threatening  gesture:  "You  are  hiding  something  in 
there,  and  }tou  can't  deny  it." 

"I  don't." 

"  Better  not ;  I  insist  on  seeing  it." 

"  Well,  you  won't." 

"  What  have  you  been  stealing  now?" 

"  Didn't  steal  it,  —  used  to  be  mine,  —  I  only  took 
it  when  I  wanted  it." 

"I  know  what  that  means.  You'd  better  give  it 
back  or  I  '11  make  you." 

"  Stop  !  "  cried  a  third  voice,  as  Thorny  put  out  his 
arm  to  clutch  Ben,  who  looked  ready  to  defend  himself 
to  the  last  gasp.  "Boys,  I  will  settle  this  affair.  Is 
there  any  thing  hidden  in  the  closet,  Ben?"  and  Miss 
Celia  came  between  the  belligerent  parties  with  her  one 
hand  up  to  part  them. 

Thorny  fell  back  at  once,  looking  half  ashamed  of  his 
heat,  and  Ben  briefly  answered,  with  a  gulp  as  if-  shame 
or  anger  made  it  hard  to  speak  steadily : 

"Yes  'm,  there  is." 

"  Does  it  belong  to  you?" 

"  Yes  'm,  it  does." 

"  Where  did  you  get  it?  " 

"  Up  to  Squire's." 

"  That 's  a  lie  !  "  muttered  Thorny  to  himself. 

Ben's  eye  flashed,  and  his  fist  doubled  up  in  spite  of 
him,  but  he  restrained  himself  out  of  respect  foi  Miss 


DETECTIVE   THORNTON.  JU3 

Celia,  who  looked  puzzled,  as  she  asked  another  ques- 
tion, not  quite  sure  how  to  proceed  with  the  investiga- 
tion ;  "  Is  it  money,  Ben? " 

"  No'm,  it  isn't. 

"Then  what  carc  it  be?" 

"Meow!"  answered  a  fourth  voice  from  the  closet, 
and  as  Ben  flung  open  the  door  a  gray  kitten  walked 
out,  purring  with  satisfaction  at  her  release. 

Miss  Celia  fell  into  a  chair  and  laughed  till  her  eyes 
were  full ;  Thorny  looked  foolish,  and  Ben  folded  his 
arms,  curled  up  his  nose,  and  regarded  his  accuser  with 
calm  defiance,  while  pussy  sat  down  to  wash  her  face  as 
if  her  morning  toilette  had  been  interrupted  by  her 
sudden  abduction. 

"That's  all  very  well,  but  it  doesn't  mend  matters 
much,  so  you  needn't  laugh,  Celia,"  began  Thorny,  re- 
covering himself^  and  stubbornly  bent  on  sifting  the 
case  to  the  bottom,  now  he  had  begun. 

"Well,  it  would,  if  you'd  let  a  feller  alone.  She 
said  she  wanted  a  cat,  so  I  went  and  got  the  one  they 
gave  me  when  I  was  at  the  Squire's.  I  went  early  and 
took  her  without  asking,  and  I  had  a  right  to,"  explained 
Ben,  much  aggrieved  by  having  his  surprise  spoiled. 

"  It  was  very  kind  of  you,  and  I'm  glad  to  have  this 
nice  kitty.  We  will  shut  her  up  in  my  room  to  catch 
the  mice  that  plague  me,"  said  Miss  Celia,  picking  up 
the  little  cat,  and  wondering  how  she  would  get  her  two 
angry  boys  safely  down  stairs. 

"  The  dressing-room,  she  means  ;  you  know  the  way, 
and  you  don't  need  keys  to  get  in,"  added  Thorny,  with 
such  sarcastic  emphasis  that  Ben  felt  some  insult  was 
intended,  and  promptly  resented  it. 


194.  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

"  irou  won't  get  me  to  climb  any  more  trees  after 
your  halls,  and  my  cat  won't  catch  any  of  your  mice,  so 
you  needn't  ask  me." 

"Cats  don't  catch  thieves,  and  they  are  what  I'm 
after ! " 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that  ?  "  fiercely  demanded  Ben, 

"  Celia  has  lost  some  money  out  of  her  drawer,  and 
you  won't  let  me  see  what 's  in  yours ;  so  I  thought, 
perhaps,  you'd  got  it !  "  blurted  out  Thorny,  finding  it 
hard  to  say  the  words,  angry  as  he  was,  for  the  face 
opposite  did  not  look  like  a  guilt}T  one. 

For  a  minute,  Ben  did  not  seem  to  understand  him, 
plainly  as  he  spoke  ;  then  he  turned  an  angry  scarlet, 
and,  with  a  reproachful  glance  at  his  mistress,  opened 
the  little  drawer  so  that  both  could  see  all  that  it  con- 
tained. 

' '  They  ain't  any  thing  ;  but  I  'm  fond  of  'em  —  they 
are  all  I  've  got  —  I  was  afraid  he  'd  laugh  at  me  that 
time,  so  I  wouldn't  let  him  look  —  it  was  father's  birth- 
day, and  I  felt  bad  about  him  and  Sanch  —  " 

Ben's  indignant  voice  got  more  and  more  indistinct 
as  he  stumbled  on,  and  broke  down  over  the  last  words. 
He  did  not  cry,  however,  but  threw  back  his  little  treas- 
ures as  if  half  their  sacredness  was  gone  ;  and,  making 
a  strong  effort  at  self-control,  faced  around,  asking  of 
Miss  Celia,  with  a  grieved  look,  — 

"  Did  you  think  I'd  steal  any  thing  of  yours?" 

"  I  tried  not  to,  Ben,  but  what  could  I  do?  It  was 
gone,  and  you  the  only  stranger  about  the  place." 

"  Wasn't  there  any  one  to  think  bad  of  but  me?"  he 
Raid,  so  sorrowfully  that  Miss  Celia  made  up  her  mind 
on  the  spot  that  he  was  as  innocent  of  the  theft  as  the 


DETECTIVE   THORNTOM.  195 

kitten  now  biting  her  buttons,  no  other  refreshment 
being  offered. 

"Nobody,  for  I  know  my  girls  well.  Yet,  eleven 
dollars  are  gone,  and  I  cannot  imagine  where  or  how ; 
for  both  drawer  and  door  are  always  locked,  because 
my  papers  and  valuables  are  in  that  room." 

"  What  a  lot !  But  how  could  /  get  it  if  it  was 
locked  up  ? "  and  Ben  looked  as  if  that  question  was 
unanswerable. 

"  Folks  that  can  climb  in  at  windows  for  a  ball,  can 
go  the  same  way  for  money,  and  get  it  easy  enough 
when  they  've  only  to  p^  open  an  old  lock  !  " 

Thorny's  look  and  tone  seemed  to  make  plain  to  Ben 
all  that  they  had  been  suspecting,  and,  being  innocent, 
he  was  too  perplexed  and  unhappy  to  defend  himself. 
His  e}Te  went  from  one  to  the  other,  and,  seeing  doubt 
in  both  faces,  his  boyish  heart  sunk  within  him  ;  for  he 
could  prove  nothing,  and  his  first  impulse  was  to  go 
away  at  once. 

"I  can't  say  any  thing,  only  that  I  didn't  take  the 
money.  You  won't  believe  it,  so  I'd  better  go  back 
where  I  come  from.  They  weren't  so  kind,  but  they 
trusted  me,  and  knew  I  wouldn't  steal  a  cent.  You 
may  keep  my  money,  and  the  kitty,  too ;  I  don't  want 
"em,"  and,  snatching  up  his  hat,  Ben  would  have  gone 
straight  away,  if  Thorny  had  not  barred  his  passage. 

"  Come,  now,  don't  be  mad.  Let's  talk  it  over,  and 
if  I  'm  wrong  I  '11  take  it  all  back  and  ask  your  pardon," 
he  said,  in  a  friendly  tone,  rather  scared  at  the  conse- 
quences of  his  first  attempt,  though  as  sure  as  ever  that 
he  was  right. 

"  It  would  break  my  heart  to  have  you  go  in  that 


196  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

way,  Ben.  Stay  at  least  till  your  innocence  is  proved, 
then  no  one  can  doubt  what  you  sa}r  now." 

"Don't  see  how  it  can  be  proved,"  answered  Ben, 
appeased  by  her  evident  desire  to  trust  him. 

' '  We  '11  try  as  well  as  we  know  how,  and  the  first 
thing  we  will  do  is  to  give  that  old  secretary  a  good 
rummage  from  top  to  bottom.  I've  done  it  once,  but 
it  is  just  possible  that  the  bills  may  have  slipped  out  of 
sigUt.  Come,  now,  I  can't  rest  till  I've  done  all  I  can 
to  comfort  you  and  convince  Thorny." 

Miss  Celia  rose  as  she  spoke,  and  led  the  way  to  the 
dressing-room,  which  had  no  outlet  except  through  her 
chamber.  Still  holding  his  hat,  Ben  followed  with  a 
troubled  face,  and  Thorny  brought  up  the  rear,  dog- 
gedly determined  to  keep  his  e}'e  on  "  the  little  scamp" 
till  the  matter  was  satisfactorily  cleared  up.  Miss 
Celia  had  made  her  proposal  more  to  soothe  the  feel- 
ings of  one  boy  and  to  employ  the  superfluous  energies 
of  the  other,  than  in  the  expectation  of  throwing  any 
light  upon  the  nrystery ;  for  she  was  sadly  puzzled  by 
Ben's  manner,  and  much  regretted  that  she  had  let  her 
brother  meddle  in  the  matter. 

"There,"  she  said,  unlocking  the  door  with  the  key 
Thorny  reluctantly  gave  up  to  her,  "  this  is  the  room 
and  that  is  the  drawer  on  the  right.  The  lower  ones 
have  seldom  been  opened  since  we  came,  and  hold  only 
some  of  papa's  old  books.  Those  upper  ones  }'Ou  may 
turn  out  and  investigate  as  much  as  you  —  Bless 
me !  here 's  something  in  your  trap,  Thorny !  "  and 
Miss  Celia  gave  a  little  skip  as  she  nearly  trod  on  a 
long,  gray  tail,  which  hung  out  of  the  hole  now  filled 
by  a  plump  mouse. 


DETECTIVE    THORNTON.  197 

But  her  brother  was  intent  on  more  serious  things^ 
and  merely  pushed  the  trap  aside  as  he  pulled  out  tho 
drawer  with  an  excited  gesture,  which  sent  it  and  all  its 
contents  clattering  to  the  floor. 

"  Confound  the  old  thing  !  It  always  stuck  so  I  had 
to  give  a  jerk.  Now,  there  it  is,  topsy-turvy ! "  and 
Thorny  looked  much  disgusted  at  his  own  awkward- 
ness. 

"  No  harm  done  ;  I  left  nothing  of  value  in  it.  Look 
back  there,  Ben,  and  see  if  there  is  room  for  a  paper 
to  get  worked  over  the  top  of  the  drawer.  I  felt  quite 
a  crack,  but  I  don't  believe  it  is  possible  for  things  to 
slip  out ;  the  place  was  never  full  enough  to  overflow  in 
any  way." 

Miss  Celia  spoke  to  Ben,  who  was  kneeling  down 
to  pick  up  the  scattered  papers,  among  which  were  two 
marked  dollar  bills,  — Thorny' s  bait  for  the  thief.  Ben 
looked  into  the  dusty  recess,  and  then  put  in  his  hand, 
saying  carelessly,  — 

"  There's  nothing  but  a  bit  of  red  stuff." 

"My  old  pen- wiper —  Why,  what's  the  matter?" 
asked  Miss  Celia,  as  Ben  dropped  the  handful  of  what 
looked  like  rubbish. 

"  Something  warm  and  wiggly  inside  of  it,"  answered 
Ben,  stooping  to  examine  the  contents  of  the  little  scar- 
let bundle.  "Baby  mice!  Ain't  they  funny?  Look 
just  like  mites  of  young  pigs.  We  '11  have  to  kill  'em 
if  you  've  caught  their  mammy,"  he  said,  forgetting  his 
own  trials  in  bo3Tish  curiosity  about  his  "  find." 

Miss  Celia  stooped  also,  and  gently  poked  the  red 
cradle  with  her  finger;  for  the  tiny  mice  were  nest- 
ling deeper  into  the  fluff  with  small  squeaks  of  alarm. 


198  UNDER   THE  LILACS. 

Suddenly  she  cried  out:  "Boys,  boys,  I've  found  the 
thief !  Look  here ;  pull  out  these  bits  and  see  if  they 
won't  make  up  my  lost  bills." 

Down  went  the  motherless  babies  as  four  ruthless 
hands  pulled  apart  their  cosey  nest,  and  there,  among 
the  nibbled  fragments,  appeared  enough  finery  printed, 
greenish  paper,  to  piece  out  parts  of  two  bank  bills. 
A  large  cypher  and  part  of  a  figure  one  were  visible, 
and  that  accounted  for  the  ten ;  but  though  there  were 
other  bits,  no  figures  could  be  found,  and  they  were 
willing  to  take  the  other  bill  on  trust. 

"Now,  then,  am  I  &  thief  and  a  liar?"  demanded 
Ben,  pointing  proudly  to  the  tell-tale  letters  spread 
forth  on  the  table,  over  which  all  three  had  been  eagerly 
bending. 

"No;  I  beg  your  pardon,  and  I'm  very  sorry  that 
we  didn't  look  more  carefully  before  we  spoke,  then  we 
all  should  have  been  spared  this  pain." 

"  All  right,  old  fellow,  forgive  and  forget.  I  '11  never 
think  hard  of  you  again,  — on  my  honor  I  won't." 

As  they  spoke,  Miss  Celia  and  her  brother  held  out 
their  hands  frankly  and  heartily.  Ben  shook  both,  but 
with  a  difference ;  for  he  pressed  the  soft  one  grate- 
fully, remembering  that  its  owner  had  always  been 
good  to  him ;  but  the  brown  paw  he  gripped  with  a 
vengeful  squeeze  that  made  Thorny  pull  it  away  in  a 
hurry,  exclaiming,  good-naturedly,  in  spite  of  both 
physical  and  mental  discomfort,  — 

"Come,  Ben,  don't  you  bear  malice  ;  for  you've 
got  the  laugh  on  your  side,  and  we  feel  pretty  small. 
I  do,  any  way  ;  for,  after  nry  fidgets,  all  I  've  caught  is 
a  mouse ! " 


DETECTIVE    THORNTON.  199 

"  And  her  family.  I  'm  so  relieved  I  'm  almost  sorry 
the  poor  little  mother  is  dead  —  she  and  her  babies 
were  so  happy  in  the  old  pen-wiper,"  said  Miss  Celia, 
hastening  to  speak  merrily,  for  Ben  still  looked  indig- 
nant, and  she  was  much  grieved  at  what  had  happened. 

"  A  pretty  expensive  house,"  began  Thorny,  looking 
about  for  the  interesting  orphans,  who  had  been  left  on 
the  floor  while  their  paper-hangings  were  examined. 

No  further  anxiety  need  be  felt  for  them,  however^ 
Kitty  had  come  upon  the  scene,  and  as  judge,  jury, 
and  prisoner,  turned  to  find  the  little  witnesses,  they 
beheld  the  last  pink  mite  going  down  Pussy's  throat  in 
one  mouthful. 

"I  call  that  summary  justice, — the  whole  family 
executed  on  the  spot !  Give  Kit  the  mouse  also,  and 
let  us  go  to  breakfast.  I  feel  as  if  I  had  found  my 
appetite,  now  this  worry  is  off  my  mind,"  said  Miss 
Celia,  laughing  so  infectiously  that  Ben  had  to  join  in 
spite  of  himself,  as  she  took  his  arm  and  led  him  away 
with  a  look  which  mutely  asked  his  pardon  over  again. 

"  Rather  lively  for  a  funeral  procession,"  said  Thorny, 
following  with  the  trap  in  his  hand  and  Puss  at  his 
heels,  adding,  to  comfort  his  pride  as  a  detective : 
"Well,  I  said  I'd  catch  the  thief,  and  I  have,  though 
It  is  rather  a  small  one ! " 


CHAPTER    XVII. 
BETTY'S  BRAVERY. 

•*  /'"^ELIA,    I  've   a    notion   that  we   ought   to   give 

^s  Ben  something.  A  sort  of  peace-offering,  you 
know ;  for  he  feels  dreadfully  hurt  about  our  suspecting 
him,"  said  Thorny,  at  dinner  that  day. 

"I  see  he  does,  though  he  tries  to  seem  as  bright 
and  pleasant  as  ever.  I  do  not  wonder,  and  I  've  been 
thinking  what  I  could  do  to  soothe  his  feelings.  Can 
3rou  suggest  any  thing  ?  " 

"  Cuff-buttons.  I  saw  some  jolly  ones  over  at  Berry- 
ville,  —  oxidized  silver,  with  dogs'  heads  on  them,  3rel- 
low  e}Tes,  and  all  as  natural  as  could  be.  Those,  now, 
would  just  suit  him  for  his  go-to-meeting  white  shirts, 
■ — neat,  appropriate,  and  in  memoriam." 

Miss  Celia  could  not  help  laughing,  it  was  such  a 
boyish  suggestion  ;  but  she  agreed  to  it,  thinking  Thorny 
knew  best,  and  hoping  the  yellow-eyed  dogs  would  be 
as  balm  to  Ben's  wounds. 

"  Well,  dear,  you  may  give  those,  and  Lita  shall  give 
the  little  whip  with  a  horse's  foot  for  a  handle,  if  it  is 
not  gone.  I  saw  it  at  the  harness  shop  in  town ;  and 
Ben  admired  it  so  much  that  I  planned  to  give  it  to  him 
on  his  birthday." 

"That  will  tickle  him  immensely;  and  if  you'd  jusx 


BETTTS  BRAVERY.  201 

let  him  put  brown  tops  to  my  old  boots,  and  stick  a 
cockade  in  his  hat  when  he  sits  up  behind  the  phaeton, 
he'd  be  a  happy  fellow:"  laughed  Thorny,  who  had 
discovered  that  one  of  Ben's  ambitions  was  to  be  a 
4  tip-top  groom." 

4 'No,  thank  you;  those  things  are  out  of  place  in 
America,  and  would  be  absurd  in  a  small  country  place 
like  this.  His  blue  suit  and  straw  hat  please  me  better 
for  a  boy ;  though  a  nicer  little  groom,  in  livery  or  out., 
no  one  could  desire,  and  you  may  tell  him  I  said  so." 

UI  will,  and  he'll  look  as  proud  as  Punch;  for  he 
thinks  every  word  you  say  worth  a  dozen  from  any  one 
else.  But  won't  you  give  him  something?  Just  some 
little  trifle,  to  show  that  we  are  both  eating  humble  pie 
feeling  sorry  about  the  mouse  money." 

"I  shall  give  him  a  set  of  school-books,, and  try  to 
get  him  ready  to  begin  when  vacation  is  over.  An 
education  is  the  best  present  we  can  make  him ;  and  I 
want  you  to  help  me  fit  him  to  enter  as  well  as  we  can. 
Bab  and  Betty  began,  little  dears,  —  lent  him  their 
books  and  taught  all  they  knew ;  so  Ben  got  a  taste, 
and,  with  the  right  encouragement,  would  like  to  go 
on,  I  am  sure." 

"That 's  so  like  you,  Celia  !  Always  thinking  of  the 
best  thing  and  doing  it  handsomely.  I'll  help  like 
a  house  a-fire,  if  he  will  let  me;  but,  all  day,  he's 
been  as  stiff  as  a  poker,  so  I  don't  believe  he  forgives 
me  a  bit." 

"  He  will  in  time,  and  if  you  are  kind  and  patient, 

he  will  be  glad  to  have  you  help  him.     I  shall  make  it 

a  sort  of  favor  to  me  on  his  part,  to  let  you  see  to  his 

lessons,  now  and  then.    It  will  be  quite  true,  for  I  don't 

9* 


202  UNDER   THE  LILACS. 

want  you  to  touch  your  Latin  or  algebra  till  cool  weather ; 
teaching  him  will  be  play  to  you." 

Miss  Celia's  last  words  made  her  brother  unbend  Ma 
brows,  for  he  longed  to  get  at  his  books  again,  and  the 
idea  of  being  tutor  to  his  "  man-servant"  did  not  alto- 
gethei  suit  him. 

"I'll  tool  him  along  at  a  great  pace,  if  he  will  only 
go.  Geography  and  arithmetic  shall  be  my  share,  and 
you  may  have  the  writing  and  spelling ;  it  gives  me  the 
fidgets  to  set  copies,  and  hear  children  make  a  mess  of 
words.  Shall  I  get  the  books  when  I  buy  the  other 
things?     Can  I  go  this  afternoon?" 

"  Yes,  here  is  the  list ;  Bab  gave  it  to  me.  You  can 
go  if  you  will  come  home  early  and  have  your  tooth 
filled." 

Gloom  fell  at  once  upon  Thorny' s  beaming  face,  and 
he  gave  such  a  shrill  whistle  that  his  sister  jumped  in 
her  chair,  as  she  added,  persuasively,  — 

"  It  won't  hurt  a  bit,  now,  and  the  longer  you  leave 
it  the  worse  it  will  be.  Dr.  Mann  is  ready  at  any  time ; 
and,  once  over,  you  will  be  at  peace  for  months.  Come, 
my  hero,  give  your  orders,  and  take  one  of  the  girls  to 
support  3tou  in  the  trying  hour.  Have  Bab ;  she  will 
enjoy  it,  and  amuse  you  with  her  chatter." 

'*  As  if  I  needed  girls  round  for  such  a  trifle  as  that ! ■ 
returned  Thorny  with  a  shrug,  though  he  groaned  in- 
wardty  at  the  prospect  before  him,  as  most  of  us  do  on 
such  occasions.  "I  wouldn't  take  Bab  at  any  price; 
she  'd  only  get  into  some  scrape  and  upset  the  whole 
plan.  Betty  is  the  chicken  for  me,  —  a  real  little  lady, 
and  as  nice  and  purry  as  a  kitten." 

"  Very  well ;  ask  her  mother,  and  take  good  care  of 


BETTY'S  BRAVERY.  203 

her.  Let  her  tuck  her  dolly  in,  and  she  will  be  contented 
anywhere.  There  's  a  fine  air,  and  the  awning  is  on 
the  phaeton,  so  you  won't  feel  the  sun.  Start  about 
three,  and  drive  carefully." 

Betty  was  charmed  to  go,  for  Thorny  was  a  sort  of 
prince  in  her  eyes ;  and  to  be  invited  to  such  a  grand 
expedition  was  an  overwhelming  honor.  Bab  was  not 
surprised,  for,  since  Sancho's  loss,  she  had  felt  herself 
m  disgrace,  and  been  unusually  meek ;  Ben  let  her 
"  severely  alone,"  which  much  afflicted  her,  for  he  was 
her  great  admiration,  and  had  been  pleased  to  express 
his  approbation  of  her  agility  and  courage  so  often,  that 
she  was  ready  to  attempt  any  fool-hardy  feat  to  recover 
his  regard.  But  vainly  did  she  risk  her  neck  jumping 
off  the  highest  beams  in  the  barn,  trying  to  keep  her 
balance  standing  on  the  donkey's  back,  and  leaping  the 
lodge  gate  at  a  bound ;  Ben  vouchsafed  no  reward  by  a 
look,  a  smile,  a  word  of  commendation ;  and  Bab  felt 
that  nothing  but  Sancho's  return  would  ever  restore  the 
broken  friendship. 

Into  faithful  Betty's  bosom  did  she  pour  forth  her 
remorseful  lamentations,  often  bursting  out  with  the 
passionate  exclamation,  "  If  I  could  only  find  Sanch, 
aud  give  him  back  to  Ben,  I  wouldn't  care  if  I  tumbled 
down  and  broke  all  my  legs  right  away  !  "  Such  aban- 
donment of  woe  made  a  deep  impression  on  Betty  ;  and 
she  fell  into  the  way  of  consoling  her  sister  by  cheerful 
prophecies,  and  a  firm  belief  that  the  organ-man  would 
yet  appear  with  the  lost  darling. 

"I've  got  five  cents  of  my  berry  money,  and  I  '11  buy 
you  a  orange  if  I  see  any,"  promised  Betty,  stopping 
to  kiss  Bab,  as  the  phaeton  came  to  the  door,  and  Thorny 


204  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

handed  in  a  young  lady  whose  white  frock  was  so  stiff 
with  starch  that  it  crackled  like  paper. 

"  Lemons  will  do  if  oranges  are  gone.  I  like  'em  to 
suck  with  lots  of  sugar,"  answered  Bab,  feeling  that  the 
sour  sadly  predominated  in  her  cup  just  now. 

"Don't  she  look  sweet,  the  dear ! "  murmured  Mrs. 
Moss,  proudly  surveying  her  3-oungest. 

She  certainly  did,  sitting  under  the  fringed  canopy 
with  "Belinda,"  all  in  her  best,  upon  her  lap,  as  she 
turned  to  smile  and  nod,  with  a  face  so  bright  and  win- 
some under  the  little  blue  hat,  that  it  was  no  wonder 
mother  and  sister  thought  there  never  was  such  a  perfect 
child  as  "  our  Betty." 

Dr.  Mann  was  busy  when  they  arrived,  but  would  be 
ready  in  an  hour ;  so  they  did  their  shopping  at  once, 
having  made  sure  of  the  whip  as  they  came  along. 
Thorny  added  some  candy  to  Bab's  lemon,  and  Belinda 
had  a  cake,  which  her  mamma  obligingly  ate  for  her. 
Betty  thought  that  Aladdin's  palace  could  not  have  been 
more  splendid  than  the  jeweller's  shop  where  the  canine 
cuff-buttons  were  bought ;  but  when  they  came  to  the 
book-store,  she  forgot  gold,  silver,  and  precious  stones, 
to  revel  in  picture-books,  while  Thorny  selected  Ben's 
modest  school  outfit.  Seeing  her  delight,  and  feeling 
particularly  lavish  with  plenty  of  money  in  his  pocket, 
the  young  gentleman  completed  the  child's  bliss  by  tell- 
ing her  to  choose  whichever  one  she  liked  best  out  of 
the  pile  of  Walter  Crane's  toy-books  tying  in  bewilder- 
ing colors  before  her. 

' '  This  one  ;  Bab  always  wanted  to  see  the  dreadful 
cupboard,  and  there's  a  picture  of  it  here,"  answered 
Betty,  clasping  a  gorgeous  copy  of  "  Bluebeard"  to  the 


BETTTS  BRAVERY.  205 

little  bosom,  which  still  heaved  with  the  rapture  of 
looking  at  that  delicious  mixture  of  lovely  Fatimas 
in  pale  azure  gowns,  pink  Sister  Annes  on  the  turret 
top,  crimson  tyrants,  and  yellow  brothers  with  forests 
of  plumage  blowing  wildly  from  their  mushroom-shaped 
caps. 

"Very  good;  there  you  are,  then.  Now,  como  on, 
for  the  fun  is  over  and  the  grind  begins,"  said  Thorny, 
marching  away  to  his  doom,  with  his  tongue  in  his  tooth, 
and  trepidation  in  his  manly  breast. 

"  Shall  I  shut  my  eyes  and  hold  your  head?"  quavered 
devoted  Betty,  as  they  went  up  the  steps  so  many  reluc- 
tant feet  had  mounted  before  them. 

"Nonsense,  child,  never  mind  me!  You  look  out 
of  window  and  amuse  }'ourself ;  we  shall  not  be  long, 
I  guess  ;  "  and  in  went  Thorny,  silently  hoping  that  the 
dentist  had  been  suddenly  called  away,  or  some  person 
with  an  excruciating  toothache  would  be  waiting  to  take 
ether,  and  so  give  our  young  man  an  excuse  for  post- 
poning his  job. 

But  no ;  Dr.  Mann  was  quite  at  leisure,  and,  full  of 
smiling  interest,  awaited  his  victim,  laying  forth  his 
unpleasant  little  tools  with  the  exasperating  alacrity  of 
his  kind.  Glad  to  be  released  from  any  share  in  the 
operation,  Betty  retired  to  the  back  window  to  be  as  far 
away  as  possible,  and  for  half  an  hour  was  so  absorbed 
in  her  book  that  poor  Thorny  might  have  groaned  dis- 
mally without  disturbing  her. 

"Done  now,  directly;  only  a  trifle  of  polishing 
off  and  a  look  round,"  said  Dr.  Mann,  at  last;  and 
Thorny,  with  a  yawn  that  nearly  rent  him  asunder, 
called  out, — 


206  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

"  Thank  goodness  !     Pack  up,  Bettykin." 

"I'm  all  read}'!"  and,  shutting  her  book  with  a 
start,  she  slipped  down  from  the  easy  chair  in  a  great 
hunw. 

But  "looking  round"  took  time;  and,  before  the 
circuit  of  Thorny's  mouth  was  satisfactorily  made,  Betty 
had  become  absorbed  b}*  a  more  interesting  tale  than 
even  the  immortal  "  Bluebeard."  A  noise  of  children's 
voices  in  the  narrow  alley-way  behind  the  house  at- 
tracted her  attention  ;  the  long  window  opened  directly 
on  the  yard,  and  the  gate  swung  in  the  wind.  Curious 
as  Fatima,  Betty  went  to  look  ;  but  all  she  saw  was  a 
group  of  excited  boys  peeping  between  the  bars  of 
another  gate  further  down. 

"  What 's  the  matter?  "  she  asked  of  two  small  girls, 
who  stood  close  by  her,  longing  but  not  daring  to  ap- 
proach the  scene  of  action. 

"  Boys  chasing  a  great  black  cat,  I  believe,"  answered 
one  child. 

"  Want  to  come  and  see?"  added  the  other,  politely 
extending  the  invitation  to  the  stranger. 

The  thought  of  a  cat  in  trouble  would  have  nerved 
Betty  to  face  a  dozen  boj's ;  so  she  followed  at  once, 
meeting  several  lads  hurrying  away  on  some  important 
errand,  to  judge  from  their  anxious  countenances. 

"  Hold  tight,  Jimmy,  and  let  'em  peek,  if  they  want 
to.  He  can't  hurt  anybody  now,"  said  one  of  the  dusty 
huntsmen,  who  sat  on  the  wide  coping  of  the  wall,  while 
two  others  h^ld  the  gate,  as  if  a  cat  could  only  escape 
that  way. 

"You  peek  first,  Sus}-,  and  see  if  it  looks  nice," 
said   one   little   girl,  boosting   her  friend   so  that  she 


BETTTS  BRAVERY.  207 

oould  look  through  the  bars  in  the  upper  part  of  the 
gate. 

"No;  it's  only  an  ugly  old  dog ! "  responded  Susy, 
losing  all  interest  at  once,  and  descending  with  a 
bounce. 

"  He 's  mad !  and  Jud  's  gone  to  get  his  gun,  so  we 
can  shoot  him ! "  called  out  one  mischievous  boy,  resent- 
ing the  contempt  expressed  for  their  capture. 

"  Ain't,  neither  !  "  howled  another  lad  from  his  perch. 
"  Mad  dogs  won't  drink  ;  and  this  one  is  lapping  out  of 
a  tub  of  water." 

"  Well,  he  may  be,  and  we  don't  know  him,  and  he 
hasn't  got  any  muzzle  on,  and  the  police  will  kill  him 
if  Jud  don't,"  answered  the  sanguinary  youth  who  had 
first  started  the  chase  after  the  poor  animal,  which  had 
come  limping  into  town,  so  evidently  a  lost  dog  that 
no  one  felt  any  hesitation  in  stoning  him. 

"We  must  go  right  home;  my  mother  is  dreadful 
'fraid  of  mad  dogs,  and  so  is  yours,"  said  Susy ;  and, 
having  satisfied  their  curiosity,  the  young  ladies  pru- 
dently retired. 

But  Betty  had  not  had  her  u  peep,"  and  could  nat 
resist  one  look ;  for  she  had  heard  of  these  unhappy 
animals,  and  thought  Bab  would  like  to  know  how  they 
looked.  So  she  stood  on  tip-toe  and  got  a  good  view  of 
a  dusty,  brownish  dog,  lying  on  the  grass  close  by, 
with  his  tongue  hanging  out  while  he  panted,  as  if  ex- 
hausted by  fatigue  and  fear,  for  he  still  cast  apprehen- 
sive glances  at  the  wall  which  divided  him  from  his 
tormentors. 

"His  ej^es  are  just  like  Sanch's,"  said  Betty  to  her- 
Belf,  unconscious  that  she  spoke  aloud,  till  she  saw  the 


208  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

creature  prick  up  his  ears  and  half  rise,  as  if  he  had 
been  called. 

"  He  looks  as  if  he  knew  me,  but  it  isn't  our  Sancho  j 
he  was  a  lovely  dog."  Betty  said  that  to  the  little  boy 
peeping  in  beside  her ;  but  before  he  could  make  any 
reply,  the  brown  beast  stood  straight  up  with  an  inquir- 
ing bark,  while  his  e}Tes  shone  like  topaz,  and  the  short 
tail  wagged  excitedly. 

44  Why,  that 's  just  the  way  Sanch  used  to  do !  " 
cried  Betty,  bewildered  by  the  familiar  ways  of  this 
unfamiliar-looking  dog. 

As  if  the  repetition  of  his  name  settled  his  own 
doubts,  he  leaped  toward  the  gate  and  thrust  a  pink 
nose  between  the  bars,  with  a  howl  of  recognition  as 
Betty's  face  was  more  clearly  seen.  The  boj^s  tumbled 
precipitately  from  their  perches,  and  the  little  girl  fell 
back  alarmed,  }~et  could  not  bear  to  run  away  and  leave 
those  imploring  eyes  pleading  to  her  through  the  bars  so 
eloquently. 

"  He  acts  just  like  our  dog,  but  I  don't  see  how  it 
can  be  him.  Sancho,  Sancho,  is  it  truly  you?"  called 
Betty,  at  her  wits'  end  what  to  do. 

uBow,  wow,  wow!"  answered  the  well-known  bark, 
and  the  little  tail  did  all  it  could  to  emphasize  the 
sound,  while  the  eyes  were  so  full  of  dumb  love  and  joy, 
the  child  could  not  refuse  to  believe  that  this  ugly  stray 
was  their  own  Sancho  strangely  transformed. 

All  of  a  sudden,  the  thought  rushed  into  her  mind, 
44  How  glad  Ben  would  be  !  —  and  Bab  would  feel  all 
happy  again.     I  must  carry  him  home." 

Never  stopping  to  think  of  danger,  and  forgetting  all 
he:  doubts,  Betty  caught  the  gate  handle  out  of  Jimmy's 


BETTrS  BRAVERY.  209 

grasp,  exclaiming  eagerly:  "He  is  our  dog!  Let  me 
go  in  ;  I  ain't  afraid." 

"  Not  till  Jud  comes  back ;  he  told  us  we  mustn't," 
answered  the  astonished  Jimmy,  thinking  the  little  girl 
aa  mad  as  the  dog. 

With  a  confused  idea  that  the  unknown  Jud  had  gone 
for  a  gun  to  shoot  Sanch,  Betty  gave  a  desperate  puli 
at  the  latch  and  ran  into  the  yard,  bent  on  saving  her 
friend.  That  it  was  a  friend  there  could  be  no  further 
question ;  for,  though  the  creature  rushed  at  her  as  if 
about  to  devour  her  at  a  mouthful,  it  was  only  to  roll 
ecstatically  at  her  feet,  lick  her  hands,  and  gaze  into 
her  face,  trying  to  pant  out  the  welcome  which  he  could 
not  utter.  An  older  and  more  prudent  person  would 
have  waited  to  make  sure  before  venturing  in ;  but  con- 
fiding Betty  knew  little  of  the  danger  which  she  might 
have  run  ;  her  heart  spoke  more  quickly  than  her  head, 
and,  not  stopping  to  have  the  truth  proved,  she  took 
the  brown  dog  on  trust,  and  found  it  was  indeed  dear 
Sanch. 

Sitting  on  the  grass,  she  hugged  him  close,  careless 
of  tumbled  hat,  dusty  paws  on  her  clean  frock,  or  a  row 
of  strange  boys  staring  from  the  wall. 

"  Darling  doggy,  where  have  you  been  so  long?  "  she 
cried,  the  great  thing  sprawling  across  her  lap,  as  if  he 
could  not  get  near  enough  to  his  brave  little  protector. 
"Did  they  make  you  black  and  beat  you,  dear?  Oh, 
Sanch,  where  is  your  tail  —  your  pretty  tail  ?  " 

A  plaintive  growl  and  a  pathetic  wag  was  al)  the 
answer  he  could  make  to  these  tender  inquiries :  for 
never  would  the  story  of  his  wrongs  be  known,  and 
never  could  the  glory  of  his  doggish  beauty  be  restored. 


210  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

Betty  was  trying  to  comfort  him  with  pats  and  praises, 
when  a  new  face  appeared  at  the  gate,  and  Thorny's 
authoritative  voice  called  out,  — 

"  Betty  Moss,  what  on  earth  are  you  doing  in  there 
with  that  dirty  beast  ?  " 

"It's  Sanch,  it's  Sanch !  Oh,  come  and  see!" 
shrieked  Betty,  flying  up  to  lead  forth  her  prize. 

But  the  gate  was  held  fast,  for  some  one  said  the 
words,  "  Mad  dog,"  and  Thorny  was  very  naturally 
alarmed,  because  he  had  already  seen  one.  "Don't 
stay  there  another  minute.  Get  up  on  that  bench  and 
I  '11  pull  3~ou  over,"  directed  Thorny,  mounting  the  wall 
to  rescue  his  charge  in  hot  haste ;  for  the  dog  did  cer- 
tainly behave  queerly,  limping  hurriedly  to  and  fro,  as  if 
anxious  to  escape.  No  wonder,  when  Sancho  heard  a 
voice  he  knew,  and  recognized  another  face,  }^et  did  not 
meet  as  kind  a  welcome  as  before. 

"  No,  I  'm  not  coming  out  till  he  does.  It  is  Sanch, 
and  I'm  going  to  take  him  home  to  Ben,"  answered 
Betty,  decided^,  as  she  wet  her  handkerchief  in  the 
rain  water  to  bind  up  the  swollen  paw  that  had  travelled 
many  miles  to  rest  in  her  little  hand  again. 

"  You're  crazy,  child.  That  is  no  more  Ben's  dog 
than  I  am." 

"  See  if  it  isn't !  "  cried  Betty,  perfectly  unshaken  in 
her  faith ;  and,  recalling  the  words  of  command  as 
well  as  she  could,  she  tried  to  put  Sancho  through  his 
little  performance,  as  the  surest  proof  that  she  was 
right.  The  poor  fellow  did  his  best,  weary  and  foot- 
sore though  he  was ;  but  when  it  came  to  taking  his  tail 
in  his  mouth  to  waltz,  he  gave  it  up,  and,  dropping 
down,  hid  his  face  in  his  paws,  as  he  always  did  when 


BETTY'S  BRAVERY.  211 

any  of  his  tricks  failed.  The  act  was  almost  pathetio 
now,  for  one  of  the  paws  was  bandaged,  and  his 
whole  attitude  expressed  the  humiliation  of  a  broken 
spirit. 

That  touched  Thorny,  and,  quite  convinced  both  of 
the  dog's  sanity  and  identity,  he  sprung  down  from  the 
wall  with  Ben's  own  whistle,  which  gladdened  Sancho'a 
longing  ear  as  much  as  the  boy's  rough  .caresses  com- 
forted his  homesick  heart. 

"  Now,  let 's  carry  him  right  home,  and  surprise  Ben. 
Won't  he  be  pleased  ?  "  said  Betty,  so  in  earnest  that 
she  tried  to  lift  the  big  brute  in  spite  of  his  protesting 
yelps. 

"  You  are  a  little  trump  to  find  him  out  in  spite  of  all 
the  horrid  things  that  have  been  done  to  him.  We 
must  have  a  rope  to  lead  him,  for  he 's  got  no  collar 
and  no  muzzle.  He  has  got  friends  though,  and  I'd 
like  to  see  any  one  touch  him  now.  Out  of  the  way, 
there,  boy  !  "  Looking  as  commanding  as  a  drum-major, 
Thorny  cleared  a  passage,  and  with  one  arm  about  his 
neck,  Betty  proudly  led  her  treasure  forth,  magnani- 
mously ignoring  his  late  foes,  and  keeping  his  eye  fixed 
on  the  faithful  friend  whose  tender  little  heart  had 
known  him  in  spite  of  all  disguises. 

"  I  found  him,  sir,"  and  the  lad  who  had  been  most 
eager  for  the  shooting,  stepped  forward  to  claim  any 
reward  that  might  be  offered  for  the  now  valuable 
victim. 

"  I  kept  him  safe  till  she  came,"  added  the  jailer 
Jimmy,  speaking  for  himself. 

"  I  said  he  wasn't  mad,"  cried  a  third,  feeling  that 
his  discrimination  deserved  approval. 


212  UNDER   THE  LILACS. 

"  Jud  ain't  my  brother,"  said  the  fourth,  eager  to  clear 
his  skirts  from  all  offence. 

"  But  all  of  you  chased  and  stoned  him,  I  suppose? 
You'd  better  look  out  or  you'll  get  reported  to  the 
Society  for  the  Prevention  of  Cruelty  to  Animals." 

With  this  awful  and  mysterious  threat,  Thorny 
slammed  the  doctor's  gate  in  the  faces  of  the  mercenary 
youths,  nipping  their  hopes  in  the  bud,  and  teaching 
them  a  good  lesson. 

After  one  astonished  stare,  Lita  accepted  Sancho 
without  demur,  and  they  greeted  one  another  cordially, 
nose  to  nose,  instead  of  shaking  hands.  Then  the  dog 
nestled  into  his  old  place  under  the  linen  duster  with  a 
grunt  of  intense  content,  and  soon  fell  fast  asleep,  quite 
worn  out  with  fatigue. 

No  Roman  conqueror  bearing  untold  treasures  with 
him,  ever  approached  the  Eternal  City  feeling  richer  or 
prouder  than  did  Miss  Betty  as  she  rolled  rapidly  toward 
the  little  brown  house  with  the  captive  won  by  her  own 
arms.  Poor  Belinda  was  forgotten  in  a  corner,  "  Blue- 
beard" was  thrust  under  the  cushion,  and  the  lovely 
lemon  was  squeezed  before  its  time  by  being  sat  upon ; 
for  all  the  child  could  think  of  was  Ben's  delight, 
Bab's  remorseful  burden  lifted  off,  "  Ma's  "  surprise,  and 
Miss  Celia's  pleasure.  She  could  hardly  realize  the 
happy  fact,  and  kept  peeping  under  the  cover  to  be  sure 
that  the  dear  ding}1-  bunch  at  her  feet  was  truly  theie. 

1 '  I  '11  tell  joxx  how  we  '11  do  it,"  said  Thorny,  break- 
ing a  long  silence  as  Betty  composed  herself  with  an 
irrepressible  wriggle  of  delight  after  one  of  these  re- 
freshing peeps.  "We'll  keep  Sanch  hidden,  and 
smuggle  him  into  Ben's  old  room  at  your  house.     Then 


BETTY'S  BRAVERY.  213 

E  '11  drive  on  to  the  barn,  and  not  say  a  word,  but  send 
Ben  to  get  something  out  of  that  room.  You  just  let 
him  in,  to  see  what  he  '11  do.  I  '11  bet  you  a  dollar  he 
won't  know  his  own  dog." 

41 1  don't  believe  I  can  keep  from  screaming  right 
out  when  I  see  him,  but  I'll  try.  Oh,  won't  it  be 
fun  ! "  —  and  Betty  clapped  her  hands  in  joyful  antici- 
pation of  that  exciting  moment. 

A  nice  little  plan,  but  Master  Thorny  forgot  the 
keen  senses  of  the  amiable  animal  snoring  peacefully 
among  his  boots ;  and,  when  they  stopped  at  the 
Lodge,  he  had  barely  time  to  say  in  a  whisper, 
44 Ben's  coming;  cover  Sanch  and  let  me  get  him  in 
quick ! "  before  the  dog  was  out  of  the  phaeton  like 
a  bombshell,  and  the  approaching  bo}T  went  down 
as  if  shot,  for  Sancho  gave  one  leap,  and  the  two 
rolled  over  and  over,  with  a  shout  and  a  bark  of 
rapturous  recognition. 

44  Who  is  hurt?  "  asked  Mrs.  Moss,  running  out  witn 
floury  hands  uplifted  in  alarm. 

44 Is  it  a  bear?"  cried  Bab,  rushing  after  her,  egg- 
beater  in  hand,  for  a  dancing  bear  was  the  desire  of  her 
heart. 

44  Sancho's  found !  Sancho's  found  !  "  shouted  Thorny, 
throwing  up  his  hat  like  a  lunatic. 

44 Found,  found,  found!"  echoed  Betty,  dancing 
wildly  about  as  if  she  too  had  lost  her  little  wits. 

44 Where?  how?  when?  who  did  it?"  asked  Mrs. 
Moss,  clapping  her  dusty  hands  delightedly. 

44  It  isn't;  it's  an  old  dirty  brown  thing,"  stam- 
mered Bab,  as  the  dog  came  uppermost  for  a  minute, 
and  then   rooted   into    Ben's    jacket   as    if  he   smell 


214  UNDER   THE  LILACS. 

a  woodchuck,  and  was  bound  to  have  him  out 
directly. 

Then  Thorny,  with  many  interruptions  from  Betty, 
poured  forth  the  wondrous  tale,  to  which  Bab  and  her 
mother  listened  breathlessly,  while  the  muffins  burned 
as  black  as  a  coal,  and  nobody  cared  a  bit. 

"  My  precious  lamb,  how  did  you  dare  to  do  such 
a  thing?"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Moss,  hugging  the  small 
heroine  with  mingled  admiration  and  alarm. 

"I'd  have  dared,  and  slapped  those  horrid  bo}Ts,  too. 
I  wish  I  'd  gone  !  "  and  Bab  felt  that  she  had  for  ever 
lost  the  chance  of  distinguishing  herself. 

"  Who  cut  his  tail  off?"  demanded  Ben,  in  a  menac- 
ing tone,  as  he  came  uppermost  in  his  turn,  dusty, 
red  and  breathless,  but  radiant. 

"  The  wretch  who  stole  him,  I  suppose ;  and  he  de- 
serves to  be  hung,"  answered  Thorny,  hotly. 

"If  ever  I  catch  him,  I'll  — I'll  cut  his  nose  off," 
roared  Ben,  with  such  a  vengeful  glare  that  Sanch 
barked  fiercely  ;  and  it  was  well  that  the  unknown 
"  wretch"  was  not  there,  for  it  would  have  gone  hardly 
with  him,  since  even  gentle  Betty  frowned,  while  Bab 
brandished  the  egg-beater  menacingly,  and  their  mother 
indignantly  declared  that  "  it  was  too  bad  !  " 

Relieved  by  this  general  outburst,  they  composed 
their  outraged  feelings ;  and  while  the  returned  wan- 
derer went  from  one  to  another  to  receive  a  tender 
welcome  from  each,  the  story  of  his  recovery  was  more 
calmly  told.  Ben  listened  with  his  eye  devouring  the 
injured  dog ;  and  when  Thonry  paused,  he  turned  to 
the  little  heroine,  saying  solemnly,  as  he  laid  her  hand 
with  his  own  on  Sancho's  head,  — 


BETTTS  BRAVE11Y.  215 

"  Betty  Moss,  I  '11  never  forget  what  you  did ;  from 
this  minute  half  of  Sanch  is  your  truly  own,  and  if  1 
die  you  shall  have  the  whole  of  him,"  and  Ben  sealed 
the  precious  gift  with  a  sounding  kiss  on  either  chubby 
cheek. 

Betty  was  so  deeply  touched  by  this  noble  bequest, 
that  the  blue  eyes  filled  and  would  have  overflowed 
if  Sanch  had  not  politely  offered  his  tongue  like  a 
red  pocket-handkerchief,  and  so  made  her  laugh  the 
drops  away,  while  Bab  set  the  rest  off  by  saying, 
gloomily,  — 

"I  mean  to  play  with  all  the  mad  dogs  I  can 
find ;  then  folks  will  think  I'm  smart  and  give  me  nice 
things." 

''Poor  old  Bab,  I'll  forgive  you  now,  and  lend 
you  my  half  whenever  }tou  want  it,"  said  Ben,  feeling 
at  peace  now  with  all  mankind,  including  girls  who 
tagged. 

"Come  and  show  him  to  Celia,"  begged  Thorny, 
eager  to  fight  his  battles  over  again. 

"  Better  wash  him  up  first ;  he's  a  sight  to  see,  poor 
thing,"  suggested  Mrs.  Moss,  as  she  ran  in,  suddenly 
remembering  her  muffins. 

"  It  will  take  a  lot  of  washings  to  get  that  brown 
stuff  off.  See,  his  pretty  pink  skin  is  all  stained  with 
it.  We  '11  bleach  him  out,  and  his  curls  will  grow,  and 
he  '11  be  as  good  as  ever  —  all  but  — " 

Ben  could  not  finish,  and  a  general  wail  went  up  for 
the  departed  tassel  that  would  never  wave  proudly  in 
the  breeze  again. 

"  I  '11  buy  him  a  new  one.  Now  form  the  procession 
and  let  us  go  in  style,"  said  Thorny,  cheerily,  as  he 


216  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

swuug  Betty  to  his  shoulder  and  marched  away  whist- 
ling "Hail!  the  conquering  hero  conies,"  while  Ben 
and  his  Bow-wow  followed  arm-in-arm,  and  Bab 
brought  up  the  rear,  banging  on  a  milk-pan  with  the 
egg-beater. 


I 


CHAPTER  XVm. 

BOWS  AND  ARROWS. 

F  Sancho's  abduction  made  a  stir,  one  may  easily 
imagine  with  what  warmth  and  interest  he  was 
welcomed  back  when  his  wrongs  and  wanderings  were 
known.  For  several  days  he  held  regular  levees,  that 
curious  bo}Ts  and  sympathizing  girls  might  see  and  pity 
the  changed  and  curtailed  dog.  Sanch  behaved  with 
dignified  affability,  and  sat  upon  his  mat  in  the  coach- 
house pensively  eying  his  guests,  and  patiently  submit- 
ting to  their  caresses  ;  while  Ben  and  Thorny  took  turns 
to  tell  the  few  tragical  facts  which  were  not  shrouded 
in  the  deepest  rnystery.  If  the  interesting  sufferer  could 
only  have  spoken,  what  thrilling  adventures  and  hair- 
breadth escapes  he  might  have  related.  But,  alas  !  he 
was  dumb  ;  and  the  secrets  of  that  memorable  month 
never  were  revealed. 

The  lame  paw  soon  healed,  the  dingy  color  slowly 
yielded  to  many  washings,  the  woolly  coat  began  to 
knot  up  into  little  curls,  a  new  collar,  handsomely 
marked,  made  him  a  respectable  dog,  and  Sancho  was 
himself  again.  But  it  was  evident  that  his  sufferings 
were  not  forgotten ;  his  once  sweet  temper  was  a  trifle 
soured ;  and,  with  a  few  exceptions,  he  had  lost  his 
faith  in  mankind.  Before,  he  had  been  the  most  benev- 
10 


218  UNDER   THE  LILACS. 

olent  and  hospitable  of  dogs  ;  now,  he  eyed  all  strangers 
suspiciously,  and  the  sight  of  a  shabby  man  made  him 
growl  and  bristle  up,  as  if  the  memory  of  his  wrongs 
still  burned  hotly  within  him. 

Fortunately,  his  gratitude  was  stronger  than  his  re- 
sentment, and  he  never  seemed  to  forget  that  he  owed 
his  life  to  Betty,  —  running  to  meet  her  whenever  &Qe 
appeared,  instantly  obeying  her  commands,  and  suffer- 
ing  no  one  to  molest  her  when  he  walked  watchfully 
beside  her,  with  her  hand  upon  his  neck,  as  they  had 
walked  out  of  the  almost  fatal  backyard  together,  faith- 
ful friends  for  ever. 

Miss  Celia  called  them  little  Una  and  her  lion,  and 
read  the  pretty  story  to  the  children  when  they  wondered 
what  she  meant.  Ben,  with  great  pains,  taugnt  the 
dog  to  spell  "  Betty,"  and  surprised  her  with  a  display 
of  this  new  accomplishment,  which  gratified  her  so 
much  that  she  was  never  tired  of  seeing  Sanch  paw 
the  five  red  letters  into  place,  then  come  and  lay  his> 
nose  in  her  hand,  as  if  he  added,  "  That's  the  name  oi 
my  dear  mistress." 

Of  course  Bab  was  glad  to  have  every  thing  pleasan* 
and  friendly  again ;  but  in  a  little  dark  corner  of  her 
heart  there  was  a  drop  of  envy,  and  a  desperate  desire 
to  do  something  which  would  make  every  one  in  her 
small  world  like  and  praise  her  as  they  did  Betty.  Try- 
ing to  be  as  good  and  gentle  did  not  satisfy  her ;  she 
must  do  something  brave  or  surprising,  and  no  chance 
for  distinguishing  herself  in  that  way  seemed  likely  to 
appear.  Betty  was  as  fond  as  ever,  and  the  boys  were 
very  kind  to  her  ;  but  she  felt  that  they  both  liked  "little 
Betcinda,"  as  they  called  her,  best,  because  she  found 


BOWS  AND  ARROWS.  219 

Sanch,  and  never  seemed  to  know  that  she  had  done 
any  thing  brave  in  defending  him  against  all  odds.  Bab 
did  not  tell  any  one  how  she  felt,  but  endeavored  to  be 
amiable,  while  waiting  for  her  chance  to  come ;  and, 
when  it  did  arrive,  made  the  most  of  it,  though  there 
was  nothing  heroic  to  add  a  charm. 

Miss  Celia's  arm  had  been  doing  very  well,  but  would , 
of  course,  be  useless  for  some  time  longer.  Finding 
that  the  afternoon  readings  amused  herself 'as  much  as 
they  did  the  children,  she  kept  them  up,  and  brought 
out  all  her  old  favorites,  enjoying  a  double  pleasure  in 
seeing  that  her  young  audience  relished  them  as  much 
as  she  did  when  a  child ;  for  to  all  but  Thorny  they 
were  brand  new.  Out  of  one  of  these  stories  came 
much  amusement  for  all,  and  satisfaction  for  one  of 
the  party. 

"  Celia,  did  you  bring  our  old  bows?"  asked  her 
brother,  eagerly,  as  she  put  down  the  book  from  which 
she  had  been  reading  Miss  Edgeworth's  capital  story 
of  "Waste  not  Want  not;  or,  Two  Strings  to  your 
Bow." 

"Yes,  I  brought  all  the  playthings  we  left  stored 
away  in  uncle's  garret  when  we  went  abroad.  The 
bows  are  in  the  long  box  where  you  found  the  mallets, 
fishing-rods,  and  bats.  The  old  quivers  and  a  few 
arrows  are  there  also,  I  believe.  What  is  the  idea 
now?  "  asked  Miss  Celia  in  her  turn,  as  Thorny  bounced 
up  in  a  great  hurry. 

"I'm  going  to  teach  Ben  to  shoot.  Grand  fun 
this  hot  weather ;  and  by-and-by  we  '11  have  an  arch- 
ery meeting,  and  you  can  give  us  a  prize.  Come 
on,  Ben.     I've  got  plenty  of  whip-cord  to  rig  up  the 


220  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

bows,  and  then  we'll  show  the  ladies  some  first-class 
shootiDg." 

"  /  can't ;  never  had  a  decent  bow  in  my  life.  The 
little  gilt  one  I  used  to  wave  round  when  I  was  a  Coopid 
wasn't  worth  a  cent  to  go,"  answered  Ben,  feeli ng  as  if 
that  painted  ' '  prodigy  "  must  have  been  a  very  distant 
connection  of  the  respectable  }~oung  person  now  walk- 
ing off  arm  in  arm  with  the  lord  of  the  manor. 

"  Practice  is  all  you  want.  I  used  to  be  a  capital 
shot,  but  I  don't  believe  I  could  hit  any  thing  but  a 
barn-door  now,"  answered  Thorny,  encouragingly. 

As  the  boys  vanished,  with  much  tramping  of  boots 
and  banging  of  doors,  Bab  observed,  in  the  young- 
ladyish  tone  she  was  apt  to  use  when  she  composed 
ber  active  little  mind  and  body  to  the  feminine  task 
of  needlework,  — 

"  We  used  to  make  bows  of  whalebone  when  we  were 
little  girls,  but  we  are  too  old  to  pla}^  so  now." 

"I'd  like  to,  but  Bab  won't,  'cause  she's  most 'leven 
years  old,"  said  honest  Bert}',  placidly  rubbing  her 
needle  in  the  ' '  raster,"  as  she  called  the  family  emery- 
bag. 

"Grown  people  enjoy  archery,  as  bow  and  arrow 
shooting  is  called,  especially  in  England.  I  was  "read- 
ing about  it  the  other  day,  and  saw  a  picture  of  Queen 
Victoria  with  her  bow  ;  so  jt>u  .needn't  be  ashamed  of 
it,  Bab,"  said  Miss  Celia,  rummaging  among  the  books 
and  papers  in  her  sofa  corner  to  find  the  magazine  she 
wanted,  thinking  a  new  play  would  be  as  good  for  the 
girls  as  for  the  big  boys. 

"A  queen,  just  think  !  "  and  Betty  looked  much  im- 
pressed by  the  fact,  as  well  as  uplifted  by  the  knowledge 


£OWS  AND  ARROWS.  221 

that  her  friend  did  not  agree  in  thinking  her  silly  because 
she  preferred  playing  with  a  harmless  home-made  toy 
to  firing  stones  or  snapping  a  pop-gun. 

"  In  old  times,  bows  and  arrows  were  used  to  fight 
great  battles  with ;  and  we  read  how  the  English  archers 
shot  so  well  that  the  air  was  dark  with  arrows,  and 
many  men  were  killed." 

"  So  did  the  Indians  have 'em ;  and  I've  got  some 
stone  arrow-heads, — found  'em  by  the  river,  in  the 
dirt ! "  cried  Bab,  waking  up,  for  battles  interested  her 
more  than  queens. 

"While  you  finish  your  stints  I'll  tell  you  a  little 
story  about  the  Indians,"  said  Miss  Celia,  lying  back  on 
her  cushions,  while  the  needles  began  to  go  again,  for 
the  prospect  of  a  story  could  not  be  resisted. 

" A  century  or  more  ago,  in  a  small  settlement  on 
the  banks  of  the  Connecticut,  —  which  means  the  Long 
River  of  Pines,  —  there  lived  a  little  girl  called  Matty 
Kilburn.  On  a  hill  stood  the  fort  where  the  people  ran 
for  protection  in  any  danger,  for  the  country  was  new 
and  wild,  and  more  than  once  the  Indians  had  come 
down  the  river  in  their  canoes  and  burned  the  houses, 
killed  men,  and  carried  away  women  and  children. 
Matty  lived  alone  with  her  father,  but  felt  quite  safe  in 
the  log-house,  for  he  was  never  far  away.  One  after- 
noon, as  the  farmers  were  all  busy  in  their  fields,  the 
bell  rang  suddenly,  —  a  sign  tnat  there  was  danger 
near,  —  and,  dropping  their  rakes  or  axes,  the  men 
hurned  to  their  houses  to  save  wives  and  babies,  and 
such  few  treasures  as  they  could.  Mr.  Kilburn  caught 
up  his  gun  with  one  hand  and  his  little  girl  with  the 
other,  and  ran  as  fast  as  he  could  toward  the  fort.    Bm 


222  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

before  he  could  reach  it  he  heard  a  yell,  and  saw  the 
red  men  coming  up  from  the  river.  Then  he  knew 
it  would  be  in  vain  to  try  to  get  in,  so  he  looked 
about  for  a  safe  place  to  hide  Matty  till  he  could  come 
/for  her.  He  was  a  brave  man,  and  could  fight,  so 
he  had  no  thought  of  hiding  while  his  neighbors  needed 
help ;  but  the  dear  little  daughter  must  be  cared  for 
first. 

M  In  the  corner  of  the  lonely  pasture  which  they 
dared  not  cross,  stood  a  big  hollow  elm,  and  there  the 
farmer  hastily  hid  Matty,  dropping  her  down  into  the 
dim  nook,  round  the  mouth  of  which  young  shoots  had 
grown,  so  that  no  one  would  have  suspected  any  hole 
was  there. 

"  '  Lie  still,  child,  till  I  come  ;  say  your  prayers  and 
wait  for  father,'  said  the  man,  as  he  parted  the  leaves 
for  a  last  glance  at  the  small,  frightened  face  looking  up 
at  him. 

"  '  Come  soon,'  whispered  Matty,  and  tried  to  smile 
bravely,  as  a  stout  settler's  girl  should. 

"Mr.  Kilburn  went  away,  and  was  taken  prisoner 
in  the  fight,  carried  off,  and  for  years  no  one  knew 
whether  he  was  alive  or  dead.  People  missed  Matty, 
but  supposed  she  was  with  her  father,  and  never  ex- 
pected to  see  her  again.  A  great  while  afterward  the 
poor  man  came  back,  having  escaped  and  made  his  way 
through  the  wilderness  to  his  old  home.  His  first  ques- 
tion was  for  Matty,  but  no  one  had  seen  her  ;  and  when 
he  told  them  where  he  had  left  her,  they  shook  their 
heads  as  if  they  thought  he  was  crazy.  But  they  went 
to  look,  that  he  might  be  satisfied ;  and  he  was ;  for 
tnere  they  found  some  little  bones,  some  faded  bits  of 


BOWS  AND  ARROWS.  223 

cloth,  and  two  rusty  silver  buckles  marked  with  Matty's 
name  in  what  had  once  been  her  shoes.  An  Indian 
arrow  lay  there,  too,  showing  why  she  had  never  cried 
for  help,  but  waited  patiently  so  long  for  father  to  come 
and  find  her." 

If  Miss  Celia  expected  to  see  the  last  bit  of  hem  done 
when  her  story  ended,  she  was  disappointed  ;  for  not  a 
dozen  stitches  had  been  taken.  Betty  was  using  her 
crash  towel  for  a  handkerchief,  and  Bab's  lay  on  the 
ground  as  she  listened  with  snapping  eyes  to  the  little 
tragedy. 

"  Is  it  true?"  asked  Betty,  hoping  to  find  relief  in 
being  told  that  it  was  not. 

"  Yes ;  I  have  seen  the  tree,  and  the  mound  where 
the  fort  was,  and  the  rusty  buckles  in  an  old  farm- 
house where  other  Kilburns  live,  near  the  spot  where  it 
all  happened,"  answered  Miss  Celia,  looking  out  the 
picture  of  Victoria  to  console  her  auditors. 

"We'll  play  that  in  the  old  apple-tree.  Betty  can 
scrooch  down,  and  I  '11  be  the  father,  and  put  leaves  on 
her,  and  then  I  '11  be  a  great  Injun  and  fire  at  her.  I 
can  make  arrows,  and  it  will  be  fun,  won't  it?"  cried 
Bab,  charmed  with  the  new  drama  in  which  she  could 
act  the  leading  parts. 

"  No,  it  won't !  I  don't  like  to  go  in  a  cobwebby 
hole,  and  have  you  play  kill  me.  I  '11  make  a  nice  fort 
of  hay,  and  be  all  safe,  and  you  can  put  Dinah  down 
there  for  Matty.  I  don't  love  her  any  more,  now  her 
last  eye  has  tumbled  out,  and  you  may  shoot  her  just  as 
much  as  you  like." 

Before  Bab  could  agree  to  this  satisfactory  arrange- 
ment, Thorny  appeared,  singing,  as  he  aimed  at  a  fat 


224  UNDER   TEE  LILACS. 

robin,  whose  red  waistcoat  looked   rather  warm  and 
winterish  that  August  day,  — 

"  So  he  took  up  his  how, 

And  he  feathered  his  arrow, 
And  said,  '  I  will  shoot 
This  little  cock-sparrow.' " 

"  But  he  didn't,"  chirped  the  robin,  flying  away, 
with  a  contemptuous  flirt  of  his  rusty-black  tail. 

"  That  is  exactly  what  you  must  promise  not  to  do, 
boys.  Fire  away  at  your  targets  as  much  as  you  like, 
but  do  not  harm  any  living  creature,"  said  Miss  Celia, 
as  Ben  followed  armed  and  equipped  with  her  own  long- 
unused  accoutrements. 

"  Of  course  we  won't  if  you  say  so;  but,  with  a 
little  practice,  I  could  bring  down  a  bird  as  well  as  that 
fellow  you  read  to  me  about  with  his  woodpeckers  and 
larks  and  herons,"  answered  Thorny,  who  had  much  en- 
joyed the  article,  while  his  sister  lamented  over  the 
destruction  of  the  innocent  birds. 

"  You'd  do  well  to  borrow  the  Squire's  old  stuffed 
owl  for  a  target ;  there  would  be  some  chance  of  your 
hitting  him,  he  is  so  big,"  said  his  sister,  who  always 
made  fun  of  the  boy  when  he  began  to  brag. 

Thomy's  only  reply  was  to  send  his  arrow  straight  up 
so  far  out  of  sight  that  it  was  a  long  while  coming 
down  again  to  stick  quivering  in  the  ground  near  by. 
whence  Sancho  brought  it  in  his  mouth,  evidently  highly 
approving  of  a  game  in  which  he  could  join. 

"  Not  bad  for  a  beginning.     Now,  Ben,  fire  away." 

But  Ben's  experience  with  bows  was  small,  and,  In 
spite  of  his  praiseworthy  efforts  to  imitate  his  great  ex- 


SOWS  AND  ARROWS.  225 

emplar,  the  arrow  only  turned  a  feeble  sort  of  somer- 
sault, and  descended  perilously  near  Bab's  uplifted 
nose. 

"If  you  endanger  other  people's  life  and  liberty  in 
your  pursuit  of  happiness,  I  shall  have  to  confiscate 
your  arms,  boys.  Take  the  orchard  for  your  archery 
ground ;  that  is  safe,  and  we  can  see  you  as  we  sit 
here.  I  wish  I  had  two  hands,  so  that  I  could  paint 
you  a  fine,  gay  target;"  and  Miss  Celia  looked  re- 
gretfully at  the  injured  arm,  which  as  yet  was  of 
little  use. 

"  I  wish  you  could  shoot,  too ;  you  used  to  beat  all 
the  girls,  and  I  was  proud  of  you,"  answered  Thorny, 
with  the  air  of  a  fond  elder  brother ;  though,  at  the 
time  he  alluded  to,  he  was  about  twelve,  and  hardly  up 
to  his  sister's  shoulder. 

"  Thank  you.  I  shall  be  happy  to  give  my  place  to 
Bab  and  Betty  if  you  will  make  them  some  bows  and 
arrows  ;  they  could  not  use  those  long  ones." 

The  young  gentlemen  did  not  take  the  hint  as  quickly 
as  Miss  Celia  hoped  they  would ;  in  fact,  both  looked 
rather  blank  at  the  suggestion,  as  boys  generally  do 
when  it  is  proposed  that  girls  —  especially  small  ones  — 
shall  join  in  any  game  they  are  playing. 

"  P'r'aps  it  would  be  too  much  trouble,"  began  Betty, 
in  her  winning  little  voice. 

"  I  can  make  my  own,"  declared  Bab,  with  an  inde- 
pendent toss  of  the  head. 

"  Not  a  bit ;  I  '11  make  you  the  jolliest  small  bow  that 
ever  was,  Betcinda,"  Thorny  hastened  to  say,  softened 
by  the  appealing  glance  of  the  little  maid. 

"  You  can  use  mine;  Bab  ;  you  Ve  got  such  a  strong 
10*  o 


226  UNDER   TEE  LILACS. 

fist,  I  guess  you  could  pull  it,"  added  Ben,  remember- 
ing that  it  would  not  be  amiss  to  have  a  comrade  who 
shot  worse  than  he  did,  for  he  felt  very  inferior  to  Thorny 
in  many  ways,  and,  being  used  to  praise,  had  missed  it 
very  much  since  he  retired  to  private  life. 

"I  will  be  umpire,  and  brighten  up  the  silver  arrow 
I  sometimes  pin  my  hair  with,  for  a  prize,  unless  we 
can  find  something  better,"  proposed  Miss  Celia,  glad 
to  see  that  question  settled,  and  every  prospect  of  the 
new  play  being  a  pleasant  amusement  for  the  hot 
weather. 

It  was  astonishing  how  soon  archery  became  the 
fashion  in  that  town,  for  the  bo}Ts  discussed  it  enthusi 
astically  all  that  evening,  formed  the  "William  Tell 
Club "  next  day,  with  Bab  and  Betty  as  honorary 
members,  and,  before  the  week  was  out,  nearly  every 
lad  was  seen,  like  young  Norval,  "With  bended  bow 
and  quiver  full  of  arrows,"  shooting  away,  with  a 
charming  disregard  of  the  safety  of  their  fellow- citizens. 
Banished  by  the  authorities  to  secluded  spots,  the  mem- 
bers of  the  club  set  up  their  targets  and  practised  inde- 
fatigably,  especially  Ben,  who  soon  discovered  that  his 
early  gymnastics  had  given  him  a  sinewy  arm  and  a  true 
eye  ;  and,  taking  Sanch  into  partnership  aspicker-up,  he 
got  more  shots  out  of  an  hour  than  those  who  had  to 
run  to  and  fro. 

Thorny  easily  recovered  much  of  his  former  skill,  but 
his  strength  had  not  fully  returned,  and  he  soon  grew 
tired.  Bab,  on  the  contrary,  threw  herself  into  the 
contest  heart  and  soul,  and  tugged  away  at  the  new  bow 
Miss  Celia  gave  her,  for  Ben's  was  too  heavy.  No 
other  girls  were  admitted,  so  the  outsiders  got  up  a 


BOWS  AND  ARROWS.  227 

club  of  their  own,  and  called  it  "  The  Victoria,"  the 
name  being  suggested  by  the  magazine  article,  which 
went  the  rounds  as  a  general  guide  and  reference-book. 
Bab  and  Betty  belonged  to  this  club  also,  and  duly  re- 
ported the  doings  of  the  boys,  with  whom  they  had  a 
right  to  shoot  if  they  chose,  but  soon  waived  the  right, 
plainly  seeing  that  their  absence  would  be  regarded  in 
the  light  of  a  favor. 

The  archery  fever  raged  as  fiercely  as  the  base-ball 
epidemic  had  done  before  it,  and  not  only  did  the  maga- 
zine circulate  freely,  but  Miss  Edgeworth's  story,  which 
was  eagerly  read,  and  so  much  admired  that  the  girls  at 
once  mounted  green  ribbons,  and  the  boys  kept  yards 
of  whip-cord  in  their  pockets  like  the  provident  Benja 
min  of  the  tale. 

Every  one  enjoyed  the  new  play  very  much,  and 
something  grew  out  of  it  which  was  a  lasting  pleasure 
to  many,  long  after  the  bows  and  arrows  were  forgot- 
ten. Seeing  how  glad  the  children  were  to  get  a  new 
story,  Miss  Celia  was  moved  to  send  a  box  of  books  — 
old  and  new  —  to  the  town  library,  which  was  but 
scantily  supplied,  as  country  libraries  are  apt  to  be. 
This  donation  produced  a  good  effect ;  for  other  people 
hunted  up  all  the  volumes  they  could  spare  for  the  same 
purpose,  and  the  dusty  shelves  in  the  little  room  behind 
the  post-office  filled  up  amazingly.  Coming  in  vacation 
time  they  were  hailed  with  delight,  and  ancient  books 
of  travel,  as  well  as  modern  tales,  were  feasted  upon 
by  happy  young  folks,  with  plenty  of  time  to  enjoy 
them  in  peace. 

The  success  of  her  first  attempt  at  being  a  public 
benefactor  pleased  Miss  Celia  very  much   and  suggested 


228  UNDER   THE  LILACS. 

other  ways  in  which  she  might  serve  the  quiet  town, 
where  she  seemed  to  feel  that  work  was  waiting  for  her 
to  do.  She  said  little  to  any  one  but  the  friend  over 
the  sea,  yet  various  plans  were  made  then  that  bios* 
somed  beautifully  by  and  by. 


CHAPTER    XIX. 

SPEAKING  PIECES. 

THE  first  of  September  came  all  too  soon,  and 
school  began.  Among  the  boys  and  girls  who 
went  trooping  up  to  the  "East  Corner  knowledge-box," 
as  they  called  it,  was  our  friend  Ben,  with  a  pile  of 
neat  books  under  his  arm.  He  felt  very  strange,  and 
decidedly  shy ;  but  put  on  a  bold  face,  and  let  nobody 
guess  that,  though  nearly  thirteen,  he  had  never  been 
to  school  before.  Miss  Celia  had  told  his  story  to 
Teacher,  and  she,  being  a  kind  little  woman,  with 
young  brothers  of  her  own,  made  things  as  easy  for 
him  as  she  could.  In  reading  and  writing  he  did  very 
well,  and  proudly  took  his  place  among  lads  of  his  own 
age ;  but  when  it  came  to  arithmetic  and  geography, 
he  had  to  go  down  a  long  wa}^,  and  begin  almost  at  the 
beginning,  in  spite  of  Thorny' s  efforts  to  "tool  him 
along  fast."  It  mortified  him  sadly,  but  there  was  no 
help  for  it ;  and  in  some  of  the  classes  he  had  dear  little 
Bettjr  to  condole  with  him  when  he  failed,  and  smile 
contentedly  when  he  got  above  her,  as  he  soon  began 
to  do,  —  for  she  was  not  a  quick  child,  and  plodded 
through  First  Parts  long  after  sister  Bab  was  flourish- 
ing away  among  girls  much  older  than  herself. 
Fortunately,  Ben  was  a  short  boy  and  a  clever  one. 


230  UNDER   THE    LILACS. 

so  he  did  not  look  out  of  place  among  the  ten  and 
eleven  year  olders,  and  fell  upon  his  lessons  with  the 
Bame  resolution  with  which  he  used  to  take  a  new  leap, 
or  practise  patientty  till  he  could  touch  his  heels  with 
his  head.  That  sort  of  exercise  had  given  him  a  strong, 
elastic  little  body ;  this  kind  was  to  train  his  mind,  and 
make  its  faculties  as  useful,  quick  and  sure,  as  the  obe- 
dient muscles,  nerves  and  eye,  which  kept  him  safe 
where  others  would  have  broken  their  necks.  He 
knew  this,  and  found  much  consolation  in  the  fact  that, 
though  mental  arithmetic  was  a  hopeless  task:,  he  could 
turn  a  dozen  somersaults,  and  come  up  as  steady  as  a 
judge.  When  the  boys  laughed  at  him  for  saying  that 
China  was  in  Africa,  he  routed  them  entirely  by  his 
superior  knowledge  of  the  animals  belonging  to  that 
wild  country ;  and  when  ' '  First  class  in  reading  "  was 
called,  he  marched  up  with  the  proud  consciousness 
that  the  shortest  boy  in  it  did  better  than  tall  Moses 
Towne  or  fat  Sam  Kitteridge. 

Teacher  praised  him  all  she  honestly  could,  and  cor- 
rected his  many  blunders  so  quietly  that  he  soon  ceased 
to  be  a  deep,  distressful  red  during  recitation,  and 
tugged  away  so  manfully  that  no  one  could  help  respect- 
ing him  for  his  efforts,  and  trying  to  make  light  of  his 
failures.  So  the  first  hard  week  went  b}',  and  though 
the  boy's  heart  had  sunk  many  a  time  at  the  prospect 
of  a  protracted  wrestle  with  his  own  ignorance,  he  made 
up  his  mind  to  win,  and  went  at  it  again  on  the  Mon- 
day with  fresh  zeal,  all  the  better  and  braver  for  a  good, 
cheery  talk  with  Miss  Celia  in  the  Sunday  evening  twi- 
light. 

He  did  not  tell  her  one  of  his  greatest  trials,  how- 


SPEAKING  PIECES.  231 

ever,  because  he  thought  she  could  not  help  him  there, 
Some  of  the  children  rather  looked  down  upon  him, 
called  him  "  tramp"  and  "  beggar,"  twitted  him  with 
having  been  a  circus  boy,  and  lived  in  a  tent  like  a 
gypsy.  They  did  not  mean  to  be  cruel,  but  did  it  for 
the  sake  of  teasing,  never  stopping  to  think  how  much 
such  sport  can  make  a  fellow-creature  suffer.  Being  a 
plucky  fellow,  Ben  pretended  not  to  mind ;  but  he  did 
feel  it  keenly,  because  he  wanted  to  start  afresh,  and 
be  like  other  boys.  He  was  not  ashamed  of  the  old 
life ;  but,  finding  those  around  him  disapproved  of  it, 
he  was  glad  to  let  it  be  forgotten,  even  by  himself; 
for  his  latest  recollections  were  not  happy  ones,  and 
present  comforts  made  past  hardships  seem  harder  than 
before. 

He  said  nothing  of  this  to  Miss  Celia  ;  but  she  found 
it  out,  and  liked  him  all  the  better  for  keeping  some 
of  his  small  worries  to  himself.  Bab  and  Betty  came 
over  on  Monday  afternoon  full  of  indignation  at  some 
boyish  insult  Sam  had  put  upon  Ben  ;  and,  finding  them 
too  full  of  it  to  enjoy  the  reading,  Miss  Celia  asked 
what  the  matter  was.  Then  both  little  girls  burst  out 
in  a  rapid  succession  of  broken  exclamations,  which  did 
not  give  a  very  clear  idea  of  the  difficulty,  — 

"  Sam  didn't  like  it  because  Ben  jumped  farther  than 
he  did  —  " 

"  And  he  said  Ben  ought  to  be  in  the  poor-house." 
"  And  Ben  said  he  ought  to  be  in  a  pigpen." 
"  So  he  had !  —  such  a  greedy  thing,  bringing  lovely 
big  apples,  and  not  giving  any  one  a  single  bite  !  " 

"Then  he  was  mad,  and  we  all  laughed  ;  and  he  said 
'"  Want  to  fight?'" 


232  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

"  And  Ben  said,  i  No,  thanky,  not  much  fun  in 
pounding  a  feather-bed.'" 

"  Oh,  he  was  awfully  mad  then,  and  chased  Ben  up 
the  big  maple." 

"  He's  there  now,  for  Sam  won't  let  him  come  down 
till  he  takes  it  all  back." 

"  Ben  won't ;  and  I  do  believe  he'll  have  to  stay  up 
all  night,"  said  Betty,  distressfully. 

"He  won't  care,  and  we'll  have  fun  firing  up  his 
supper.  Nut-cakes  and  cheese  will  go  splendidly  ;  and 
ma}7  be  baked  pears  wouldn't  get  smashed,  he 's  such 
a  good  catch,"  added  Bab,  decidedly  relishing  the 
prospect. 

"If  he  does  not  come  by  tea-time,  we  will  go  and 
look  after  him.  It  seems  to  me  I  have  heard  some- 
thing about  Sam's  troubling  him  before,  haven't  I?" 
asked  Miss  Celia,  ready  to  defend  her  protege  against 
all  unfair  persecution. 

"  Yes,  'm,  Sam  and  Mose  are  always  plaguing  Ben. 
They  are  big  boys,  and  we  can't  make  them  stop.  I 
won't  let  the  girls  do  it,  and  the  little  boys  don't  dare 
to,  since  Teacher  spoke  to  them,"  answered  Bab. 

"  Why  does  not  Teacher  speak  to  the  big  ones?" 

"Ben  won't  tell  of  them,  or  let  us.  He  says  he'll 
fight  his  own  battles,  and  hates  tell-tales.  I  guess  he 
won't  like  to  have  us  tell  }tou,  but  I  don't  care,  for  it 
is  too  bad  ! "  and  Betty  looked  ready  to  cry  over  her 
friend's  tribulations. 

"I'm  glad  you  did,  for  I  will  attend  to  it,  and  stop 
this  sort  of  thing,"  said  Miss  Celia,  after  the  children 
had  told  some  of  the  tormenting  speeches  which  had 
tried  poor  Ben. 


SPEAKING  PIECES.  233 

Just  then  Thorny  appeared,  looking  much  amused, 
and  the  little  girls  both  called  out  in  a  breath,  "Did 
you  see  Ben  and  get  him  down?" 

"He  got  himself  down  in  the  neatest  way  you  can 
imagine  ; "  and  Thorny  laughed  at  the  recollection. 

"  Where  is  Sam?  "  asked  Bab. 

"  Staring  up  at  the  sky  to  see  where  Ben  has  flown 
to." 

"  Oh,  tell  about  it !  "  begged  Betty. 

"  Well,  I  came  along  and  found  Ben  treed,  and  Sam 
stoning  him.  I  stopped  that  at  once,  and  told  the  i  fat 
boy '  to  be  off.  He  said  he  wouldn't  till  Ben  begged 
his  pardon  ;  and  Ben  said  he  wouldn't  do  it,  if  he  stayed 
up  for  a  week.  I  was  just  preparing  to  give  that  rascal 
a  scientific  thrashing,  when  a  load  of  hay  came  along, 
and  Ben  dropped  on  to  it  so  quietly  that  Sam,  who  was 
trying  to  bully  me,  never  saw  him  go.  It  tickled  me 
so,  I  told  Sam  I  guessed  I  'd  let  him  off  that  time,  and 
walked  away,  leaving  him  to  hunt  for  Ben,  and  wonder 
where  the  dickens  he  had  vanished  to." 

The  idea  of  Sam's  bewilderment  amused  the  others 
as  much  as  Thorny,  and  they  all  had  a  good  laugh  over 
it  before  Miss  Celia  asked,  — 

"  Where  has  Ben  gone  now?" 

"Oh,  he'll  take  a  little  ride,  and  then  slip  down 
and  race  home  full  of  the  fun  of  it.  But  I  've  got  to 
settle  Sam.  I  won't  have  our  Ben  hectored  by  any 
one  —  " 

"But  yourself,"  put  in  his  sister,  with  a  sly  smile, 
for  Thorny  was  rather  domineering  at  times. 

"  He  doesn't  mind  my  poking  him  up  now  and  then, 
it 's  good  for  him  ;  and  I  always  take  his  part  again s1 


234  UNDER   THE  LILACS. 

other  people.  Sam  is  a  bully,  and  so  is  Mose  ;  and  I 'A 
thrash  them  both  if  they  don't  stop." 

Anxious  to  curb  her  brother's  pugnacious  propen- 
sities, Miss  Celia  proposed  milder  measures,  promising 
to  speak  to  the  boys  herself  if  there  was  any  more 
trouble. 

"  I  have  been  thinking  that  we  should  have  some 
<iort  of  merry-making  for  Ben  on  his  birthday.  My 
plan  was  a  very  simple  one  ;  but  I  will  enlarge  it,  and 
have  all  the  young  folks  come,  and  Ben  shall  be  king 
of  the  fun.  He  needs  encouragement  in  well-doing, 
for  he  does  try ;  and  now  the  first  hard  part  is  nearly 
over,  I  am  sure  he  will  get  on  bravely.  If  we  treat  him 
with  respect,  and  show  our  regard  for  him,  others  will 
follow  our  example  ;  and  that  will  be  better  than  fight- 
ing about  it." 

"So  it  will !  What  shall  we  do  to  make  our  party 
tip-top  ? "  asked  Thorny,  falling  into  the  trap  at  once ; 
for  he  dearly  loved  to  get  up  theatricals,  and  had  not 
had  any  for  a  long  time. 

"  We  will  plan  something  splendid,  a  '  grand  com- 
bination,' as  you  used  to  call  your  droll  mixtures  of 
tragedy,  comedy,  melodrama  and  farce,"  answered  his 
sister,  with  her  head  already  full  of  lively  plots. 

"  We  '11  startle  the  natives.  I  don't  believe  they  ever 
saw  a  play  in  all  their  lives,  hey,  Bab  ?  " 

"  I  've  seen  a  circus." 

"  We  dress  up  and  do  '  Babes  in  the  Wood,' "  added 
Betty,  with  dignit}T. 

"Pho!  that's  nothing.  I'll  show  you  acting  thai 
will  make  your  hair  stand  on  end,  and  you  shall  act  too. 
Bab  will  be  capital  for  the  naughty  girls,"  began  Thorny, 


SPEAKING  PIECES.  235 

excited  by  the  prospect  of  producing  a  sensation  on  the 
boards,  and  always  ready  to  tease  the  girls. 

Before  Betty  could  protest  that  she  did  not  want  her 
hair  to  stand  up,  or  Bab  could  indignantly  decline  the 
role  offered  her,  a  shrill  whistle  was  heard,  and  Misa 
Celia  whispered,  with  a  warning  look,  — 

"  Hush !  Ben  is  coming,  and  he  must  not  know  anj 
thing  about  this  yet." 

The  next  day  was  Wednesday,  and  in  the  afternoon 
Miss  Celia  went  to  hear  the  children  "speak  pieces," 
though  it  was  very  seldom  that  any  of  the  busy  matrons 
and  elder  sisters  found  time  or  inclination  for  these  dis- 
plays of  youthful  oratory.  Miss  Celia  and  Mrs.  Moss 
were  all  the  audience  on  this  occasion,  but  Teacher  was 
both  pleased  and  proud  to  see  them,  and  a  general 
rustle  went  through  the  school  as  they  came  in,  all  the 
girls  turning  from  the  visitors  to  nod  at  Bab  and  Betty, 
who  smiled  all  over  their  round  faces  to  see  "Ma" 
sitting  up  " '  side  of  Teacher,"  and  the  boys  grinned  at 
Ben,  whose  heart  began  to  beat  fast  at  the  thought  of 
his  dear  mistress  coming  so  far  to  hear  him  say  his 
piece. 

Thorny  had  recommended  Marco  Bozzaris,  but  Ben 
preferred  John  Gilpin,  and  ran  the  famous  race  with 
much  spirit,  making  excellent  time  in  some  parts  and 
having  to  be  spurred  a  little  in  others,  but  came  out  all 
right,  though  quite  breathless  at  the  end,  sitting  down 
amid  great  applause,  some  of  which,  curiously  enough, 
seemed  to  come  from  outside ;  which  in  fact  it  did,  for 
Thorny  was  bound  to  hear  but  would  not  come  in,  lest 
his  presence  should  abash  one  orator  at  least. 

Other  pieces  followed,  a'J  more  or  less  patriotic  and 


236  UNDER  THE  LILACS. 

warlike,  among  the  boys  ;  sentimental  among  tbe  girls. 
Sam  broke  clown  in  his  attempt  to  give  one  of  Webster's 
great  speeches.     Little  Cy  Fay  boldly  attacked 

"  Again  to  the  battle,  Achaians !  " 

and  shrieked  his  waj^  through  it  in  a  shrill,  small  voice, 
bound  to  do  honor  to  the  older  brother  who  had  trained 
him  even  if  he  broke  a  vessel  in  the  attempt.  Billy 
chose  a  well-worn  piece,  but  gave  it  a  new  interest  by 
his  style  of  delivery  ;  for  his  gestures  were  so  spasmodic 
he  looked  as  if  going  into  a  fit,  and  he  did  such 
astonishing  things  with  his  voice  that  one  never  knew 
whether  a  howl  or  a  growl  would  come  next.     When 

"  The  woods  against  a  stormy  sky 
Their  giant  branches  tossed  ; " 

Billy's  arms  went  round  like  the  sails  of  a  windmill; 
the  "hymns  of  lofty  cheer"  not  only  "shook  the 
depths  of  the  desert  gloom,"  but  the  small  children  on 
their  little  benches,  and  the  school-house  literally  rang 
"  to  the  anthems  of  the  free  !  "  When  "  the  ocean  eagle 
soared,"  Billy  appeared  to  be  going  bodily  up,  and  the 
"pines  of  the  forest  roared"  as  if  they  had  taken 
lessons  of  Van  Amburgh's  biggest  Hon.  "Woman's 
fearless  eye"  was  expressed  by  a  wild  glare;  "man- 
hood's brow,  severely  high,"  by  a  sudden  clutch  at  the 
reddish  locks  falling  over  the  orator's  hot  forehead,  and 
a  sounding  thump  on  his  blue  checked  bosom  told  where 
' '  the  fiery  heart  of  youth  "  was  located.  ' '  What  sought 
they  thus  afar  ?  "  he  asked,  in  such  a  natural  and  inquir- 
ing tone,  with  his  e}^e  fixed  on  Mamie  Peters,  that  the 
startled  innocent  replied,  "  Dunno,"  which  caused  the 


SPEAKING  PIECES.  237 

speaker  to  close  in  haste,  devoutly  pointing  a  stubby 
finger  upward  at  the  last  line. 

This  was  considered  the  gem  of  the  collection,  and 
Billy  took  his  seat  proudly  conscious  that  his  native 
town  boasted  an  orator  who,  in  thne>  would  utterly 
eclipse  Edward  Everett  and  Wendell  Phillips. 

Sally  Folsom  led  off  with  "  The  Coral  Grove,"  chosen 
for  the  express  purpose  of  making  her  friend  Almira 
Mullet  start  and  blush,  when  she  recited  the  second 
line  of  that  pleasing  poem, 

"  Where  the  purple  mullet  and  gold-fish  rove." 

One  of  the  older  girls  gave  Wordsworth's  "Lost 
Love  "  in  a  pensive  tone,  clasping  her  hands  and  bring- 
ing out  the  "  O  "  as  if  a  sudden  twinge  of  toothache 
seized  her  when  she  ended. 

"  But  she  is  in  her  grave,  and  O, 
The  difference  to  me ! " 

Bab  always  chose  a  funny  piece,  and  on  this  after- 
noon set  them  all  laughing  by  the  spirit  with  which  she 
spoke  the  droll  poem,  "  Pussy's  Class,"  which  some  of 
my  young  readers  may  have  read.  The  "meou"  and 
the  "  sptzzs  "  were  capital,  and  when  the  "  fond  mam- 
ma rubbed  her  nose,"  the  children  shouted,  for  Miss 
Bab  made  a  paw  of  her  hand  and  ended  with  an  im- 
promptu purr,  which  was  considered  the  best  imitation 
ever  presented  to  an  appreciative  public.  Betty  bash- 
fully murmured  "  Little  White  Lily,"  swaying  to  and 
fro  as  regularly  as  if  in  no  other  way  could  the  rhymes 
be  ground  out  of  her  memory. 

"That  is  all,  I  believe.      If   either  of  the  ladies 


238  UNDER   THE  LILAC fc. 

would  like  to  say  a  few  words  to  the  children,  1  should 
be  pleased  to  have  them,"  said  Teacher,  politely,  paus- 
ing before  she  dismissed  school  with  a  song. 

"  Please,  'm,  I  'd  like  to  speak  my  piece,"  answered 
Miss  Celia,  obeying  a  sudden  impulse ;  and,  stepping 
forward  with  her  hat  in  her  hand,  she  made  a  pretty 
courtesy  before  she  recited  Mary  Howitt's  sweet  little- 
ballad,  "  Mabel  on  Midsummer  Day." 

She  looked  so  young  and  merry,  and  used  such  simple 
but  expressive  gestures,  and  spoke  in  such  a  clear,  soft 
voice  that  the  children  sat  as  if  spell-bound,  learning 
several  lessons  from  this  new  teacher,  whose  perform- 
ance charmed  them  from  beginning  to  end,  and  left  a 
moral  which  all  could  understand  and  carry  away  in  that 
last  verse, — 

"  'T  is  good  to  make  all  duty  sweet 
To  be  alert  and  kind  ; 
'T  is  good,  like  Little  Mabel, 
To  have  a  willing  mind." 

Of  course  there  was  an  enthusiastic  clapping  when 
Miss  Celia  sat  down,  but  even  while  hands  applauded, 
consciences  pricked,  and  undone  tasks,  complaining, 
words  and  sour  faces  seemed  to  rise  up  reproachfully 
before  many  of  the  children,  as  well  as  their  own  faults 
of  elocution. 

"  Now  we  will  sing,"  said  Teacher,  and  a  great  clear- 
ing of  throats  ensued,  but  before  a  note  could  be  uttered, 
the  half-open  door  swung  wide,  and  Sancho,  with  Ben's 
hat  on,  walked  in  upon  his  hind  legs,  and  stood  with 
his  paws  meekly  folded,  while  a  voice  from  the  entry 
eang  rapidly,  — 


SPEAKING  PIECES.  239 

"  Benny  had  a  little  dog, 

His  fleece  was  white  as  snow, 
And  everywhere  that  Benny  went. 
The  dog  was  sure  to  go. 
"He  went  into  the  school  one  day, 
Which  was  against  the  rule ; 
It  made  the  children  laugh  and  play 
To  see  a  dog  —  " 

Mischievous  Thorny  got  no  further,  for  a  genera/ 
explosion  of  laughter  drowned  the  last  words,  and  Ben's 
command  "  Out,  you  rascal !  "  sent  Sanch  to  the  right- 
about in  double-quick  time. 

Miss  Celia  tried  to  apologize  for  her  bad  brother,  and 
Teacher  tried  to  assure  her  that  it  didn't  matter  in  the 
least,  as  this  was  always  a  merry  time,  and  Mrs.  Moss 
vainly  shook  her  finger  at  her  naughty  daughters  ;  they 
as  well  as  the  others  would  have  their  laugh  out,  and 
only  partially  sobered  down  when  the  bell  rang  for 
"  Attention."  They  thought  they  were  to  be  dismissed, 
and  repressed  their  giggles  as  well  as  they  could  in 
order  to  get  a  good  start  for  a  vociferous  roar  when 
they  got  out.  But,  to  their  great  surprise,  the  pretty 
lady  stood  up  again  and  said,  in  her  friendly  way,  — 

"  I  just  want  to  thank  you  for  this  pleasant  little  ex- 
hibition, and  ask  leave  to  come  again.  I  also  wish  to 
invite  you  all  to  my  boy's  birthday  party  on  Saturday 
week.  The  archery  meeting  is  to  be  in  the  afternoon, 
and  both  clubs  will  be  there,  I  believe.  In  the  evening 
we  are  going  to  have  some  fun,  when  we  can  laugh  as 
much  as  we  please  without  breaking  any  of  the  rules. 
In  Ben's  name  I  invite  you,  and  hope  you  will  all  come, 
for  we  mean  to  make  this  the  happiest  birthday  he 
ever  had." 


240  UNDER   THE  LILACS. 

There  were  twenty  pupils  in  the  room ,  but  the  eighty 
hands  and  feet  made  such  a  racket  at  this  announce- 
ment that  an  outsider  would  have  thought  a  hundred 
children,  at  least,  must  have  been  at  it.  Miss  Celia 
was  a  general  favorite  because  she  nodded  to  all  the 
girls,  called  the  boys  by  their  last  names,  even  address- 
ing some  of  the  largest  as  ' '  Mr. ,"  which  won  their  hearts 
at  once,  so  that  if  she  had  invited  them  all  to  come 
and  be  whipped  they  would  have  gone,  sure  that  it  was 
some  delightful  joke.  With  what  eagerness  they 
accepted  the  present  invitation  one  can  easily  imagine, 
though  they  never  guessed  why  she  gave  it  in  that  way, 
and  Ben's  face  was  a  sight  to  see,  he  was  so  pleased 
and  proud  at  the  honor  done  him  that  he  did  not  know 
where  to  look,  and  was  glad  to  rush  out  with  the  other 
boys  and  vent  his  emotions  in  whoops  of  delight.  He 
knew  that  some  little  plot  was  being  concocted  for  his 
birthday,  but  never  dreamed  of  any  thing  so  grand  as 
asking  the  whole  school,  Teacher  and  all.  The  effect 
of  the  invitation  was  seen  with  comical  rapidity,  for  the 
boj's  became  overpowering  in  their  friendly  attentions 
to  Ben.  Even  Sam,  fearing  he  might  be  left  out, 
promptly  offered  the  peaceful  olive-branch  in  the  shape 
of  a  big  arjple,  warm  from  his  pocket,  and  Mose  pro- 
posed a  trade  of  jack-knives  which  would  be  greatly  to 
Ben's  advantage.  But  Thorny  made  the  noblest  sacri- 
fice of  all,  for  he  said  to  his  sister,  as  they  walked  home 
together, — 

"  I  'm  not  going  to  try  for  the  prize  at  all.  I  shoot 
so  much  better  than  the  rest,  having  had  more  practice, 
you  know,  that  it  is  hardly  fair.  Ben  and  Billy  are 
next  best,  and  about  even,  for  Ben's  strong  wrist  makes 


SPEAKING  PIECES.  241 

up  for  Billy's  true  eye,  and  both  want  to  win.  If  I  am 
out  of  the  way  Ben  stands  a  good  chance,  for  the  other 
fellows  don't  amount  to  much." 

"Bab  does;  she  shoots  nearly  as  well  as  Ben,  and 
wants  to  win  even  more  than  he  or  Billy.  She  must 
have  her  chance  at  any  rate." 

"  So  she  may,  but  she  won't  ^-do  any  thing ;  girls 
can't,  though  it's  good  exercise  and  pleases  them  to 
try." 

"  If  I  had  full  use  of  both  my  arms  I  'd  show  you 
that  girls  can  do  a  great  deal  when  they  like.  Don't 
be  too  lofty,  young  man,  for  you  may  have  to  come 
down,"  laughed  Miss  Celia,  amused  by  his  airs. 

"  No  fear,"  and  Thorny  calmly  departed  to  set  his 
targets  for  Ben's  practice. 

"We  shall  see,"  and  from  that  moment  Miss  Celia 
made  Bab  her  especial  pupil,  feeling  that  a  little  lesson 
would  be  good  for  Mr.  Thorny,  who  rather  lorded  it 
over  the  other  young  people.  There  was  a  spice  of 
mischief  in  it,  for  Miss  Celia  was  very  young  at  heart, 
in  spite  of  her  twenty-four  years,  and  she  was  bound  to 
see  that  her  side  had  a  fair  chance,  believing  that  girls 
can  do  whatever  they  are  willing  to  strive  patiently  and 
wisely  for. 

So  she  kept  Bab  at  work  early  and  late,  giving  her 
all  the  hints  and  help  she  could  with  only  one  efficient 
hand,  and  Bab  was  delighted  to  think  she  did  well 
enough  to  shoot  with  the  club.  Her  arms  ached  and 
her  fingers  grew  hard  with  twanging  the  bow,  but  she 
was  indefatigable,  and  being  a  strong,  tall  child  of  her 
age,  with  a  great  love  of  all  athletic  sports,  she  got  on 
fast  and  well,  soon  learning  to  send  arrow  after  arrow 
11  p 


242  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

with  ever  increasing  accuracy  nearer  and  nearer  to  the 
bull's-eye. 

The  boys  took  very  little  notice  of  her,  being  much 
absorbed  in  their  own  affairs,  but  Betty  did  for  Bab 
what  Sancho  did  for  Ben,  and  trotted  after  arrows  till 
her  short  legs  were  sadly  tired,  though  her  patience 
never  gave  out.  She  was  so  sure  Bab  would  win  that 
she  cared  nothing  about  her  own  success,  practising 
little  and  seldom  hitting  any  thing  when  she  tried. 


CHAPTER    XX. 

BEN'S  BIRTHDAY. 

A  SUPERB  display  of  flags  flapped  gayly  in  the 
breeze  on  the  September  morning  when  Ben 
proudly  entered  his  teens.  An  irruption  of  bunting 
seemed  to  have  broken  out  all  over  the  old  house,  for 
banners  of  every  shape  and  size,  color  and  design,  flew 
from  chimney- top  to  gable,  porch  and  gate-way,  making 
the  quiet  place  look  as  lively  as  a  circus  tent,  which 
was  just  what  Ben  most  desired  and  delighted  in. 

The  boys  had  been  up  very  early  to  prepare  the  show, 
and  when  it  was  ready  enjoj^ed  it  hugely,  for  the  fresh 
wind  made  the  pennons  cut  strange  capers.  The  winged 
lion  of  Venice  looked  as  if  trying  to  fly  away  home ; 
the  Chinese  dragon  appeared  to  brandish  his  forked 
tail  as  he  clawed  at  the  Burmese  peacock ;  the  double- 
headed  eagle  of  Russia  pecked  at  the  Turkish  crescent 
with  one  beak,  while  the  other  seemed  to  be  screaming 
to  the  English  royal  beast,  "  Come  on  and  lend  a  paw." 
In  the  hurry  of  hoisting,  the  Siamese  elephant  got 
turned  upside  down,  and  now  danced  gayly  on  his  head, 
with  the  stars  and  stripes  waving  proudly  over  him.  A 
green  flag  with  a  yellow  harp  and  sprig  of  shamrock 
hung  in  sight  of  the  kitchen  window,  and  Katy,  the 
cook,  got  breakfast  to  the  tune  of  "  St.  Patrick's  day 


244  UNDER   THE  LILACS. 

in  the  morning."  Sancho's  kennel  was  half  hidden 
under  a  rustling  paper  imitation  of  the  gorgeous  Span- 
ish banner,  and  the  scarlet  sun-and-moon  flag  of  Arabia 
snapped  and  flaunted  from  the  pole  over  the  coach- 
house, as  a  delicate  compliment  to  Lita,  Arabian  horses 
being  considered  the  finest  in  the  world. 

The  little  girls  came  out  to  see,  and  declared  it  wag 
the  loveliest  sight  they  ever  beheld,  while  Thorny  played 
4 i  Hail  Columbia"  on  his  fife,  and  Ben,  mounting  the 
gate-post,  crowed  long  and  loud  like  a  happy  cockerel 
who  had  just  reached  his  majority.  He  had  been  sur- 
prised and  delighted  with  the  gifts  he  found  in  his  room 
on  awaking,  and  guessed  why  Miss  Celia  and  Thorny 
gave  him  such  pretty  things,  for  among  them  was  a 
match-box  made  like  a  mouse-trap.  The  doggy  buttons 
and  the  horsey  whip  were  treasures  indeed,  for  Miss 
Celia  had  not  given  them  when  they  first  planned  to  do 
so,  because  Sancho's  return  seemed  to  be  joy  and  re- 
ward enough  for  that  occasion.  But  he  did  not  forget 
to  thank  Mrs.  Moss  for  the  cake  she  sent  him,  nor  the 
girls  for  the  red  mittens  which  they  had  secretly  and 
painfully  knit.  Bab's  was  long  and  thin,  with  a  very 
pointed  thumb,  Betty's  short  and  wide,  with  a  stubby 
thumb,  and  all  their  mother's  pulling  and  pressing  could 
not  make  them  look  alike,  to  the  great  affliction  of  the 
little  knitters.  Ben,  however,  assured  them  that  he 
rather  preferred  odd  ones,  as  then  he  could  always  tell 
which  was  right  and  which  left.  He  put  them  on  im- 
mediately and  went  about  cracking  the  new  whip  with  an 
expression  of  content  which  was  droll  to  see,  while  the 
children  followed  after,  full  of  admiration  for  the  hero 
of  the  dav. 


BEN*  S  BIR  THDA  Y.  245 

They  were  very  busy  all  the  morning  preparing  for 
the  festivities  to  come,  and  as  soon  as  dinner  was  over 
every  one  scrambled  into  his  or  her  best  clothes  as  fast 
as  possible,  because,  although  invited  to  come  at  two, 
impatient  boys  and  girls  were  seen  hovering  about  the 
avenue  as  early  as  one. 

The  first  to  arrive,  however,  was  an  uninvited  guest, 
for  just  as  Bab  and  Betty  sat  down  on  the  porch 
steps,  in  their  stiff  pink  calico  frocks  and  white  ruffled 
aprons,  to  repose  a  moment  before  the  party  came  in, 
a  rustling  was  heard  among  the  lilacs  and  out  stepped 
Alfred  Tennyson  Barlow,  looking  like  a  small  Robin 
Hood,  in  a  green  blouse  with  a  silver  buckle  on  his 
broad  belt,  a  feather  in  his  little  cap  and  a  bow  in  his 
hand. 

"  I  have  come  to  shoot.  I  heard  about  it.  My  papa 
told  me  what  arching  meant.  Will  there  be  any  little 
cakes  ?     I  like  them." 

With  these  opening  remarks  the  poet  took  a  seat  and 
calmly  awaited  a  response.  The  }Toung  ladies,  I  regret 
to  say,  giggled,  then  remembering  their  manners,  hast- 
ened to  inform  him  that  there  would  be  heaps  of  cakes, 
also  that  Miss  Celia  would  not  mind  his  coming  without 
an  invitation,  they  were  quite  sure. 

"  She  asked  me  to  come  that  day.  I  have  been  very 
ousy.  I  had  measles.  Do  you  have  them  here?" 
asked  the  guest,  as  if  anxious  to  compare  notes  on  the 
sad  subject. 

"We  had  ours  ever  so  long  ago.  What  have  you 
been  doing  besides  having  measles  ?  "  said  Betty,  show- 
ing a  polite  interest. 

"  I  had  a  fight  with  a  bumble-bee." 


246  UNDER   THE  LILACS. 

"  Who  beat?  "  demanded  Bab. 

"  I  did.     I  ran  away  and  he  couldn't  catch  me." 

"  Can  you  shoot  nicely?  " 

"  I  hit  a  cow.  She  did  not  mind  at  all.  I  guess  she 
thought  it  was  a  fly." 

"  Did  your  mother  know  you  were  coming?"  asked 
Bab,  feeling  an  interest  in  runawaj^s. 

"  No  ;  she  is  gone  to  drive,  so  I  could  not  ask  her." 

"It  is  very  wrong  to  disobey.  My  Sunday-school 
book  says  that  children  who  are  naughty  that  way  never 
go  to  heaven,"  observed  virtuous  Betty,  in  a  warning 
tone. 

"  I  do  not  wish  to  go,"  was  the  startling  reply. 

"  Why  not?  "  asked  Betty,  severely. 

"  They  don't  have  any  dirt  there.  My  mamma  says 
so.  I  am  fond  of  dirt.  I  shall  stay  here  where  there 
is  plenty  of  it,"  and  the  candid  youth  began  to  grub  in 
the  mould  with  the  satisfaction  of  a  genuine  boy. 

"  I  am  afraid  you're  a  very  bad  child." 

"  Oh  yes,  I  am.  My  papa  often  says  so  and  he 
knows  all  about  it,"  replied  Alfred  with  an  involuntary 
wriggle  suggestive  of  painful  memories.  Then,  as  if 
anxious  to  change  the  conversation  from  its  somewhat 
personal  channel,  he  asked,  pointing  to  a  row  of  grin- 
ning heads  above  the  wall,  "  Do  you  shoot  at  those? " 

Bab  and  Betty  looked  up  quickly  and  recognized  the 
familiar  faces  of  their  friends  peering  down  at  them, 
like  a  choice  collection  of  trophies  or  targets.  i 

"  I  should  think  you'd  be  ashamed  to  peek  before  the 
party  was  ready  !  "  cried  Bab,  frowning  darkly  upon  the 
merry  young  ladies. 

"  Miss  Celia  told  us  to  come  before  two,  and  be  ready 


BEN'S  BIRTHDAY.  247 

to  receive  folks,  if  she  wasn't  down,"  added  Betty,  im- 
portantly. 

"It  is  striking  two  now.  Come  along,  girls  ; "  and 
over  scrambled  Sally  Folsom,  followed  by  three  or  font 
kindred  spirits,  just  as  their  hostess  appeared. 

"  You  look  like  Amazons  storming  a  fort,"  she  said, 
as  the  girls  came  up,  each  carrying  her  bow  and  arrows, 
while  green  ribbons  flew  in  every  direction.  "  How  do 
you  do,  sir?  I  have  been  hoping  you  would  call 
again,"  added  Miss  Celia,  shaking  hands  with  the 
pretty  boy,  who  regarded  with  benign  interest  the 
giver  of  little  cakes. 

Here  a  rush  of  boys  took  place,  and  further  remarks 
were  cut  short,  for  every  one  was  in  a  hurry  to  begin. 
So  the  procession  was  formed  at  once,  Miss  Celia  taking 
the  lead,  escorted  by  Ben  in  the  post  of  honor,  while 
the  boys  and  girls  paired  off  behind,  arm  in  arm,  bow 
on  shoulder,  in  martial  array.  Thorny  and  Billy  were 
the  band,  and  marched  before,  fifing  and  drumming 
"  Yankee  Doodle  "  with  a  vigor  which  kept  feet  moving 
briskly,  made  eyes  sparkle,  and  young  hearts  dance 
under  the  gay  gowns  and  summer  jackets.  The  inter- 
esting stranger  was  elected  to  bear  the  prize,  laid  out 
on  a  red  pin-cushion ;  and  did  so  with  great  dignity, 
as  he  went  beside  the  standard-bearer,  Cy  Fay?  who 
bore  Ben's  choicest  flag,  snow-white,  with  a  green  wreath 
surrounding  a  painted  bow  and  arrow,  and  with  the 
letters  W.  T.  C.  done  in  red  below. 

Such  a  merry  march  all  about  the  place,  out  at  the 
Lodge  gate,  up  and  down  the  avenue,  along  the  winding 
paths,  till  they  halted  in  the  orchard,  where  the  target 
stood ,  and  seats  were  placed  for  the  archers  while  they 


248  UNDER    THE  LiLACS. 

waited  for  their  turns.  Various  rules  and  regulations 
were  discussed,  and  then  the  fun  began.  Miss  Celia 
liad  insisted  that  the  girls  should  be  invited  to  shoot 
with  the  bo}Ts  ;  and  the  lads  consented  without  much 
concern,  whispering  to  one  another  with  condescending 
ahrugs,  "  Let  'em  try,  if  they  like ;  they  can't  do  any 
thing." 

There  were  various  trials  of  skill  before  the  great 
match  came  off,  and  in  these  trials  the  3Toung  gentlemen 
discovered  that  two  at  least  of  the  girls  could  do  some- 
thing ;  for  Bab  and  Sally  shot  better  than  many  of  the 
boys,  and  were  well  rewarded  for  their  exertions  by  the 
change  which  took  place  in  the  faces  and  conversation 
of  their  mates. 

"Why,  Bab,  you  do  as  well  as  if  I'd  taught  you 
myself,"  said  Thorny,  much  surprised  and  not  alto- 
gether pleased  at  the  little  girl's  skill. 

"  A  lady  taught  me  ;  and  I  mean  to  beat  every  one 
of  you,"  answered  Bab,  saucily,  while  her  sparkling 
eyes  turned  to  Miss  Celia  with  a  mischievous  twinkle 
in  them. 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it,"  declared  Thorny,  stoutly  ;  but  he 
went  to  Ben  and  whispered,  "  Do  your  best,  old  fellow, 
for  sister  has  taught  Bab  all  the  scientific  points,  and 
the  little  rascal  is  ahead  of  Billy." 

"  She  won't  get  ahead  of  me,"  said  Ben,  picking  out 
his  best  arrow,  and  trying  the  string  of  his  bow  with  a 
confident  air  which  re-assured  Thorny,  who  found  it 
impossible  to  believe  that  a  girl  ever  could,  would,  or 
should  excel  a  boy  in  any  thing  he  cared  to  try. 

It  really  did  look  as  if  Bab  would  beat  when  the 
match  for  the  prize  came  off ;  and  the  children  got  more 


BEN'S  BIRTHDAY.  249 

and  more  excited  as  the  six  who  were  to  try  for  it  took 
turns  at  the  bull's-eye.  Thorny  was  umpire,  and  kept 
account  of  each  shot,  for  the  arrow  which  went  nearest 
the  middle  would  win.  Each  had  three  shots  ;  and  very 
Boon  the  lookers-on  saw  that  Ben  and  Bab  were  the 
best  marksmen,  and  one  of  them  would  surely  get  the 
silver  arrow. 

Sam,  who  was  too  lazy  to  practise,  soon  gave  up  the 
contest,  saying,  as  Thorny  did,  "It  wouldn't  be  fair 
for  such  a  big  fellow  to  try  with  the  little  chaps,"  which 
made  a  laugh,  as  his  want  of  skill  was  painfully  evident. 
But  Mose  went  at  it  gallantly  ;  and,  if  his  eye  had  been 
as  true  as  his  arms  were  strong,  the  "  little  chaps" 
would  have  trembled.  But  his  shots  were  none  of  them 
as  near  as  Billy's  ;  and  he  retired  after  the  third  failure, 
declaring  that  it  was  impossible  to  shoot  against  the 
wind,  though  scarcely  a  breath  was  stirring. 

Sally  Folsom  was  bound  to  beat  Bab,  and  twanged 
away  in  great  style ;  all  in  vain,  however,  as  with  tall 
Maria  Newcome,  the  third  girl  who  attempted  the  trial. 
Being  a  little  near-sighted,  she  had  borrowed  her  sister's 
eye-glasses,  and  thereby  lessened  her  chance  of  suc- 
cess ;  for  the  pinch  on  her  nose  distracted  her  attention, 
and  not  one  of  her  arrows  went  beyond  the  second  ring, 
to  her  great  disappointment.  Billy  did  very  well,  but 
got  nervous  when  his  last  shot  came,  and  just  missed 
the  bull's-eye  by  being  in  a  hurry. 

Bab  and  Ben  each  had  one  turn  more  ;  and,  as  they 
were  about  even,  that  last  arrow  would  decide  the  vic- 
tory. Both  had  sent  a  shot  into  the  bull's-eye,  but 
neither  was  exactly  in  the  middle ;  so  there  was  room 
to  do  better,  even,  and  the  children  crowded  round, 
11* 


250  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

erring  eagerly,  " Now,  Ben ! "  "  Now,  Bab  ! "  "Hit 
her  up,  Ben  ! "  "  Beat  him,  Bab  !  "  while  Thorny  looked 
as  anxious  as  if  the  fate  of  the  country  depended  on 
the  success  of  his  man.  Bab's  turn  came  first ;  and,  as 
Miss  Celia  examined  her  bow  to  see  that  all  was  right, 
the  little  girl  said,  with  her  eyes  on  her  rival's  excited 
face,  ■ — 

"I  want  to  beat,  but  Ben  will  feel  so  bad,  I  'most 
hope  I  sha'n't." 

"Losing  a  prize  sometimes  makes  one  happier  than 
gaining  it.  You  have  proved  that  you  could  do  better 
than  most  of  them ;  so,  if  you  do  not  beat,  you  may 
still  feel  proud,"  answered  Miss  Celia,  giving  back  the 
bow  with  a  smile  that  said  more  than  her  words. 

It  seemed  to  give  Bab  a  new  idea,  for  in  a  minute 
all  sorts  of  recollections,  wishes,  and  plans  rushed 
through  her  lively  little  mind,  and  she  followed  a 
sudden  generous  impulse  as  blindly  as  she  often  did 
a  wilful  one. 

"I  guess  he'll  beat,"  she  said,  softly,  with  a  quick 
sparkle  of  the  eyes,  as  she  stepped  to  her  place  and  fired 
without  taking  her  usual  careful  aim. 

Her  shot  struck  almost  as  near  the  centre  on  the  right 
as  her  last  one  had  hit  on  the  left ;  and  there  was  a  shout 
of  delight  from  the  girls  as  Thorny  announced  it  before 
he  hurried  back  to  Ben,  whispering  anxiously,  — 

"Steady,  old  man,  steady;  you  must  beat  that,  or 
we  shall  never  hear  the  last  of  it." 

Ben  did  not  say,  "  She  won't  get  ahead  of  me,"  as 
he  had  said  at  the  first ;  he  set  his  teeth,  threw  off  his 
hat,  and,  knitting  his  brows  with  a  resolute  expression, 
prepared  to  take  steady  aim,  though  his  heart  beat  fast, 


BEN'S  BIRTHDAY.  261 

and  his  thumb  trembled  as  he  pressed  it  on  the  bow- 
string. 

"I  hope  you'll  beat,  I  truly  do,"  said  Bab,  at  his 
elbow ;  and,  as  if  the  breath  that  framed  the  generous 
wisli  helped  it  on  its  way,  the  arrow  flew  straight  to  the 
bull's-eye,  hitting,  apparently,  the  very  spot  where  Bab'a 
best  shot  had  left  a  hole. 

"A  tie!  a  tie!"  cried  the  girls,  as  a  general  rush 
took  place  toward  the  target. 

"  No,  Ben's  is  nearest.  Ben's  beat!  Hooray!'* 
shouted  the  boys  throwing  up  their  hats. 

There  was  only  a  hair's-breadth  difference,  and  Bab 
could  honestly  have  disputed  the  decision ;  but  she  did 
not,  though  for  an  instant  she  could  not  help  wishing 
that  the  cry  had  been  "Bab's  beat!  Hurrah!"  it 
sounded  so  pleasant.  Then  she  saw  Ben's  beaming 
face,  Thorny's  intense  relief,  and  caught  the  look  Miss 
Celia  sent  her  over  the  heads  of  the  boys,  and  decided, 
with  a  sudden  warm  glow  all  over  her  little  face,  that 
losing  a  prize  did  sometimes  make  one  happier  than 
winning  it.  Up  went  her  best  hat,  and  she  burst  out 
in  a  shrill,  "  Rah,  rah,  rah ! "  that  sounded  very 
funny  coming  all  alone  after  the  general  clamor  had 
subsided. 

"  Good  for  you,  Bab  !  you  are  an  honor  to  the  club, 
and  I'm  proud  of  you,"  said  Prince  Thorny,  with  a 
hearty  hand-shake ;  for,  as  his  man  had  won,  he  could 
afford  to  praise  the  rival  who  had  put  him  on  his  mettle, 
though  she  was  a  girl. 

Bab  was  much  uplifted  by  the  royal  commendation, 
but  a  few  minutes  later  felt  pleased  as  well  as  proud 
when  Ben,  having  received  the  prize,  came  to  her,  aa 


252  UNDER   THE  LILACS. 

she  stood  behind  a  tree  sucking  her  blistered  thumb, 
while  Betty  braided  up  her  dishevelled  locks. 

"  I  think  it  would  be  fairer  to  call  it  a  tie,  Bab,  for 
it  really  was,  and  I  want  you  to  wear  this.  I  wanted 
the  fun  of  beating,  but  I  don't  care  a  bit  for  this  girl's 
thing,  and  I  'd  rather  see  it  on  you." 

As  he  spoke,  Ben  offered  the  rosette  of  green  ribbon 
which  held  the  silver  arrow,  and  Bab's  eyes  brightened 
as  they  fell  upon  the  pretty  ornament,  for  to  her  "  the 
girl's  thing  "  was  almost  as  good  as  the  victory. 

"  Oh  no  ;  you  must  wear  it  to  show  who  won.  Miss 
Celia  wouldn't  like  it.  I  don't  mind  not  getting  it ;  I 
did  better  than  all  the  rest,  and  I  guess  I  shouldn't  like 
to  beat  you"  answered  Bab,  unconsciously  putting  into 
childish  words  the  sweet  generosity  which  makes  so 
many  sisters  glad  to  see  their  brothers  carry  off  the 
prizes  of  life,  while  they  are  content  to  know  that  they 
have  earned  them  and  can  do  without  the  praise. 

But  if  Bab  was  generous,  Ben  was  just ;  and  though 
he  could  not  explain  the  feeling,  would  not  consent  to 
fcake  all  the  glory  without  giving  his  little  friend  a  share. 

"  You  must  wear  it ;  I  shall  feel  real  mean  if  you 
don't.  You  worked  harder  than  I  did,  and  it  was  only 
Luck  my  getting  this.  Do,  Bab,  to  please  me,"  he  per- 
sisted, awkwardly  trying  to  fasten  the  ornament  in  the 
middle  of  Bab's  white  apron. 

"  Then  I  will.  Now  do  you  forgive  me  for  losing 
Sancho?"  asked  Bab,  with  a  wistful  look  which  made 
Ben  say,  heartily,  — 

"  I  did  that  when  he  came  home." 

"  And  you  don't  think  I  'm  horrid?  " 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it ;  you  are  first-rate,  and  I  '11  stand 


BEN'S  BIRTHDAY.  253 

by  you  like  a  man,  for  you  are  'most  as  good  as  a  boy ! ' 
cried  Ben,  anxious  to  deal  handsomely  with  his  feminine 
rival,  whose  skill  had  raised  her  immensely  in  his 
opinion. 

Feeling  that  he  could  not  improve  that  last  compli- 
ment, Bab  was  fully  satisfied,  and  let  him  leave  the 
prize  upon  her  breast,  conscious  that  she  had  some 
claim  to  it. 

"  That  is  where  it  should  be,  and  Ben  is  a  true 
knight,  winning  the  prize  that  he  may  give  it  to  his 
lady,  while  he  is  content  with  the  victory,"  said  Miss 
Celia,  laughingly,  to  Teacher,  as  the  children  ran  off 
to  join  in  the  riotous  games  which  soon  made  the  or- 
chard ring. 

"He  learned  that  at  the  circus  '  tunnyments,'  as  he 
calls  them.  He  is  a  nice  boy,  and  I  am  much  in- 
terested in  him ;  for  he  has  the  two  things  that  do  most 
toward  making  a  man,  patience  and  courage,"  answered 
Teacher,  smiling  also  as  she  watched  the  young  knight 
play  leap-frog,  and  the  honored  lady  tearing  about  in  a 
game  of  tag. 

"  Bab  is  a  nice  child,  too,"  said  Miss  Celia ;  "  she  is 
as  quick  as  a  flash  to  catch  an  idea  and  carry  it  out, 
though  very  often  the  ideas  are  wild  ones.  She  could 
have  won  just  now,  I  fancy,  if  she  had  tried,  but  took 
the  notion  into  her  head  that  it  was  nobler  to  let  Ben 
win,  and  so  atone  for  the  trouble  she  gave  him  in  losing 
the  dog.  I  saw  a  very  sweet  look  on  her  face  just  now, 
and  am  sure  that  Ben  will  never  know  why  he  beat." 

"  She  does  such  things  at  school  sometimes,  and  I 
can't  bear  to  spoil  her  little  atonements,  though  they 
are  not  always  needed  or  very  wise,"  answered  Teacher. 


254  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

"Not  long  ago  I  found  that  she  had  been  giving  her 
lunch  day  after  day  to  a  poor  child  who  seldom  had  any, 
and  when  I  asked  her  why,  she  said,  with  tears,  '  I 
used  to  laugh  at  Abby,  because  she  had  only  crusty, 
diy  bread,  and  so  she  wouldn't  bring  any.  I  ought  to 
give  her  mine  and  be  hungry,  it  was  so  mean  to  make 
fun  of  her  poorness." 

"  Did  you  stop  the  sacrifice?" 

"  No ;  I  let  Bab  i  go  halves,'  and  added  an  extra  bit 
to  my  own  lunch,  so  I  could  make  my  contribution 
likewise." 

"  Come  and  tell  me  about  Abby.  I  want  to  make 
friends  with  our  poor  people,  for  soon  I  shall  have  a 
right  to  help  them  ; "  and,  putting  her  arm  in  Teacher's, 
Miss  Celia  led  her  away  for  a  quiet  chat  in  the  porch, 
making  her  guest's  visit  a  happy  holiday  by  confiding 
several  plans  and  asking  advice  in  the  friendliest  way. 


CHAPTER   XXI. 
CUPID'S  LAST  APPEARANCE. 

A  PICNIC  supper  on  the  grass  followed  the  games, 
and  then,  as  twilight  began  to  fall,  the  }roung 
people  were  marshalled  to  the  coach-house,  now  trans- 
formed into  a  rustic  theatre.  One  big  door  was  open, 
and  seats,  arranged  lengthwise,  faced  the  red  table-cloths 
which  formed  the  curtain.  A  row  of  lamps  made  very 
good  foot-lights,  and  an  invisible  band  performed  a 
Wagner-like  overture  on  combs,  tin  trumpets,  drums, 
and  pipes,  with  an  accompaniment  of  suppressed 
laughter. 

Many  of  the  children  had  never  seen  any  thing  like 
it,  and  sat  staring  about  them  in  mute  admiration  and 
expectancy;  but  the  older  ones  criticised  freely,  and 
indulged  in  wild  speculations  as  to  the  meaning  of 
various  convulsions  of  nature  going  on  behind  the 
curtain. 

While  Teacher  was  dressing  the  actresses  for  the 
tragedy,  Miss  Celia  and  Thorny,  who  were  old  hands 
at  this  sort  of  amusement,  gave  a  "  Potato  "  pantomime 
as  a  side  show. 

Across  an  empty  stall  a  green  cloth  was  fastened,  so 
high  that  the  heads  of  the  operators  were  not  seen.  A 
little  curtain  flew  up,  disclosing  the  front  of  a  Chinese 


256  UNDER   THE  LILACS. 

pagoda  painted  on  pasteboard,  with  a  door  and  window 
which  opened  quite  naturally.  This  stood  on  one  side, 
several  green  trees  with  paper  lanterns  hanging  from 
the  boughs  were  on  the  other  side,  and  the  words  "  Tea 
Garden,"  printed  over  the  top,  showed  the  nature  of 
this  charming  spot. 

Few  of  the  children  had  ever  seen  the  immortal 
Punch  and  Judy,  so  this  was  a  most  agreeable  novelty, 
and  before  they  could  make  out  what  it  meant,  a 
voice  began  to  sing,  so  distinctly  that  every  word  was 
heard, — 

"  In  China  there  lived  a  little  man, 
His  name  was  Chingery  Wangery  Chan." 

Here  the  hero  "took  the  stage"  with  great  dignity, 
clad  in  a  loose  yellow  jacket  over  a  blue  skirt,  which 
concealed  the  hand  that  made  his  body.  A  pointed 
hat  adorned  his  head,  and  on  removing  this  to  bow  he 
disclosed  a  bald  pate  with  a  black  queue  in  the  middle, 
and  a  Chinese  face  nicely  painted  on  the  potato,  the 
lower  part  of  which  was  hollowed  out  to  fit  Thorny's 
first  finger,  while  his  thumb  and  second  finger  were  in 
the  sleeves  of  the  yellow  jacket,  making  a  lively  pair  of 
arms.     While  he  saluted,  the  song  went  on,  — 

"  His  legs  were  short,  his  feet  were  small, 
And  this  little  man  could  not  walk  at  all." 

Which  assertion  was  proved  to  be  false  by  the  agility 
with  which  the  "  little  man"  danced  a  jig  in  time  to 
the  rollicking  chorus,  — 

"  Chingery  changery  ri  co  day, 
Ekel  tekel  happy  man  ; 
Uron  odesko  canty  oh,  oh, 
Gallopy  wallopy  China  go." 


CUPID'S  LAST  APPEARANCE.  257 

At  the  close  of  the  dance  and  chorus,  Chan  retired 
into  the  tea  garden,  and  drank  so  many  cups  of  the 
national  beverage,  with  such  comic  gestures,  that  the 
spectators  were  almost  sorry  when  the  opening  of 
the  opposite  window  drew  all  eyes  in  that  direction. 
At  the  lattice  appeared  a  lovely  being ;  for  this  potato 
had  been  pared,  and  on  the  white  surface  were  painted 
pretty  pink  cheeks,  red  lips,  black  eyes,  and  oblique 
brows ;  through  the  tuft  of  dark  silk  on  the  head  were 
stuck  several  glittering  pins,  and  a  pink  jacket  shrouded 
the  plump  figure  of  this  capital  little  Chinese  lady. 
After  peeping  coyly  out,  so  that  all  could  see  and  ad- 
mire, she  fell  to  counting  the  money  from  a  purse, 
so  large  her  small  hands  could  hardly  hold  it  on  the 
window  seat.  While  she  did  this,  the  song  went  on  to 
explain,  — 

"  Miss  Ki  Hi  was  short  and  squat, 
She  had  money  and  he  had  not ; 
So  off  to  her  he  resolved  to  go, 
And  play  her  a  tune  on  his  little  banjo." 

During  the  chorus  to  this  verse  Chan  was  seen  tun- 
ing his  instrument  in  the  garden,  and  at  the  end 
sallied  gallantly  forth  to  sing  the  following  tender 
strain,  — 

"  Whang  fun  li, 

Tang  hua  ki, 
Hong  Kong  do  ra  me ! 

Ah  sin  lo, 

Pan  to  f  o, 
Tsing  up  chin  leute  I " 

Carried  away  by  his  passion,  Chan  dropped  hie 
banjo,  fell  upon  his  knees,  and,  clasping  his  hands, 

a 


258  UNDER   THE  LILACS. 

bowed  his  forehead  in  the  dust  before  his  idol.    But, 
alas !  — 

"  Miss  Ki  Hi  heard  his  notes  of  love, 
And  held  her  wash-bowl  up  above ; 
It  fell  upon  the  little  man, 
And  this  was  the  end  of  Chingery  Chan." 

Indeed  it  was ;  for,  as  the  doll's  basin  of  real  water 
was  cast  forth  by  the  cruel  charmer,  poor  Chan  expired 
in  such  strong  convulsions  that  his  head  rolled  down 
among  the  audience.  Miss  Ki  Hi  peeped  to  see  what 
had  become  of  her  victim,  and  the  shutter  decapitated 
her  likewise,  to  the  great  delight  of  the  children,  who 
passed  around  the  heads,  pronouncing  a  "Potato"  pan- 
tomime "  first-rate  fun." 

Then  they  settled  themselves  for  the  show,  having 
been  assured  by  Manager  Thorny  that  they  were  about 
to  behold  the  most  elegant  *and  varied  combination  ever 
produced  on  any  stage.  And  when  one  reads  the  fol- 
lowing very  inadequate  description  of  the  somewhat 
mixed  entertainment,  it  is  impossible  to  deny  that  the 
promise  made  was  nobly  kept. 

After  some  delay  and  several  crashes  behind  the 
curtain,  which  mighttty  amused  the  audience,  the  per- 
formance began  with  the  well-known  tragedy  of  "  Blue- 
beard ; "  for  Bab  had  set  her  heart  upon  it,  and  the 
young  folks  had  acted  it  so  often  in  their  plays  that 
it  was  very  easy  to  get  up,  with  a  few  extra  touches 
to  scenery  and  costumes.  Thorny  was  superb  as  the 
tyrant  with  a  beard  of  bright  blue  worsted,  a  slouched 
hat  and  long  feather,  fur  cloak,  red  hose,  rubber  boots, 
and  a  real  sword  which  clanked  tragically  as  he  walked. 
He  spoke  in  such  a  deep  voice,  knit  his  corked  eye- 


CUPID'S  LAST  APPEARANCE.  259 

brows,  and  glared  so  frightfully,  that  it  was  no  wonder 
poor  Fatima  quaked  before  him  as  he  gave  into  her 
keeping  an  immense  bunch  of  keys  with  one  particularly 
big,  bright  one,  among  them. 

Bab  was  fine  to  see,  with  Miss  Celia's  blue  dress 
sweeping  behind  her,  a  white  plume  in  her  flowing  hair, 
and  a  real  necklace  with  a  pearl  locket  about  her  neck. 
She  did  her  part  capitally,  especially  the  shriek  she 
gave  when  she  looked  into  the  fatal  closet,  the  energy 
with  which  she  scrubbed  the  tell-tale  key,  and  her  dis- 
tracted tone  when  she  called  out:  "Sister  Anne,  O, 
sister  Anne,  do  you  see  anybody  coming  ? "  while  her 
enraged  husband  was  roaring:  "Will  you  come  down, 
madam,  or  shall  I  come  and  fetch  you?" 

Betty  made  a  captivating  Anne,  —  all  in  white  mus 
lin,  and  a  hat  full  of  such  lovely  pink  roses  that  she 
could  not  help  putting  up  one  hand  to  feel  them  as  she 
stood  on  the  steps  looking  out  at  the  little  window  for 
the  approaching  brothers,  who  made  such  a  din  that  it 
sounded  like  a  dozen  horsemen  instead  of  two. 

Ben  and  Billy  were  got  up  regardless  of  expense  in 
the  way  of  arms ;  for  their  belts  were  perfect  arsenals, 
and  their  wooden  swords  were  big  enough  to  strike  ter- 
ror into  any  soul,  though  they  struck  no  sparks  out  of 
Blue-beard's  blade,  in  the  awful  combat  which  preceded 
the  villain's  downfall  and  death. 

The  boys  enjoyed  this  part  intensely,  and  cries  of 
"  Go  it,  Ben  !  "  "  Hit  him  again,  Billy  ! "  "  Two  against 
one  isn't  fair ! "  "  Thorny 's  a  match  for  'em."  "  Now 
he 's  down,  hurray ! "  cheered  on  the  combatants,  till, 
after  a  terrific  struggle,  the  tyrant  fell,  and  with  con- 
vulsive twitchings  of  the  scarlet  legs,  slowly  expired ; 


260  UNDER   THE  LILACS. 

while  the  ladies  sociably  fainted  in  each  other's  arms, 
and  the  brothers  waved  their  swords  and  shook  hands 
over  the  corse  of  their  enemy. 

This  piece  was  rapturously  applauded,  and  all  the 
performers  had  to  appear  and  bow  their  thanks,  led  by 
the  defunct  Blue-beard,  who  mildly  warned  the  excited 
audience  that  if  they  ' '  didn't  look  out  the  seats  would 
break  down,  and  then  there  'd  be  a  nice  mess."  Calmed 
by  this  fear  they  composed  themselves,  and  waited  with 
ardor  for  the  next  play,  which  promised  to  be  a  lively 
one,  judging  from  the  shrieks  of  laughter  which  came 
from  behind  the  curtain. 

"  Sanch's  going  to  be  in  it,  I  know ;  for  I  heard  Ben 
say,  '  Hold  him  still ;  he  won't  bite,' "  whispered  Sam, 
longing  to  "jounce"  up  and  down,  so  great  was  his 
satisfaction  at  the  prospect,  for  the  dog  was  considered 
the  star  of  the  company. 

"I  hope  Bab  will  do  something  else,  she  is  so  funny. 
Wasn't  her  dress  elegant?"  said  Sally  Folsom,  burning 
to  wear  a  long  silk  gown  and  a  feather  in  her  hair. 

"  I  like  Betty  best,  she's  so  cunning,  and  she  peeked 
out  of  the  window  just  as  if  she  really  saw  somebody 
coming,"  answered  Liddy  Peckham,  privately  resolving 
to  tease  mother  for  some  pink  roses  before  another  Sun- 
day came. 

Up  went  the  curtain  at  last,  and  a  voice  announced 
"  A  Tragedy  in  Three  Tableaux."  "  There 's  Betty ! " 
was  the  general  exclamation,  as  the  audience  recognized 
a  familiar  face  under  the  little  red  hood  worn  by  the 
child  who  stood  receiving  a  basket  from  Teacher,  who 
made  a  nice  mother  with  her  finger  up,  as  if  telling  the 
small  messenger  not  to  loiter  by  the  way. 


CUPID'S  LAST  APPEARANCE.  261 

44 1  know  what  that  is  ! "  cried  Sally ;  "  it 's  *  Mabel 
on  Midsummer  Day/  The  piece  Miss  Celia  spoke ; 
don't  you  know  ?  " 

"There  isn't  any  sick  baby,  and  Mabel  had  a  'ker- 
chief pinned  about  her  head.'  /  say  it 's  Eed  Riding 
Hood,"  answered  Liddy,  who  had  begun  to  learn  Mary 
Howittfs  pretty  poem  for  her  next  piece,  and  knew 
all  about  it. 

The  question  was  settled  by  the  appearance  of  the 
wolf  in  the  second  scene,  and  such  a  wolf!  On  few 
amateur  stages  do  we  find  so  natural  an  actor  for  that 
part,  or  so  good  a  costume,  for  Sanch  was  irresistibly 
droll  in  the  gray  wolf-skin  which  usually  lay  beside  Miss 
Celia's  bed,  now  fitted  over  his  back  and  fastened  neatly 
down  underneath,  with  his  own  face  peeping  out  at  one 
end ,  and  the  handsome  tail  bobbing  gaily  at  the  other. 
What  a  comfort  that  tail  was  to  Sancho,  none  but  a 
bereaved  bow-wow  could  ever  tell.  It  reconciled  him  to 
his  distasteful  part  at  once,  it  made  rehearsals  a  joy, 
and  even  before  the  public  he  could  not  resist  turning 
to  catch  a  glimpse  of  the  noble  appendage,  while  his 
own  brief  member  wagged  with  the  proud  consciousness 
that  though  the  tail  did  not  match  the  head,  it  was  long 
enough  to  be  seen  of  all  men  and  dogs. 

That  was  a  pretty  picture,  for  the  little  maid  came 
walking  in  with  the  basket  on  her  arm,  and  such  an 
innocent  face  inside  the  bright  hood  that  it  was  quite 
natural  the  gray  wolf  should  trot  up  to  her  with 
deceitful  friendliness,  that  she  should  pat  and  talk 
to  him  confidingly  about  the  butter  for  grandma,  and 
then  that  they  should  walk  away  together,  he  politely 
carrying  her  basket,  she  with  her  hand  on  his  head, 


262  UNDER   THE  LILACS. 

little    dreaming  what  evil  plans  were    taking    shape 
inside. 

The  children  encored  that,  but  there  was  no  time  to 
repeat  it,  so  they  listened  to  more  stifled  merriment  be- 
hind the  red  table-cloths,  and  wondered  whether  the 
next  scene  would  be  the  wolf  popping  his  head  out  of 
the  window  as  Red  Riding  Hood  knocks,  or  the  tragic 
end  of  that  sweet  child. 

It  was  neither,  for  a  nice  bed  had  been  made,  and  in 
it  reposed  the  false  grandmother,  with  a  ruffled  night- 
cap on,  a  white  gown,  and  spectacles.  Betty  lay  be- 
side the  wolf,  staring  at  him  as  if  just  about  to  say, 
"  Why,  grandma,  what  great  teeth  you  've  got ! "  for 
Sancho's  mouth  was  half  open  and  a  red  tongue  hung 
out,  as  he  panted  with  the  exertion  of  keeping  still. 
This  tableau  was  so  very  good,  and  yet  so  funny,  that 
the  children  clapped  and  shouted  frantically;  this 
excited  the  dog,  who  gave  a  bounce  and  would  have 
leaped  off  the  bed  to  bark  at  the  rioters,  if  Betty  had 
not  caught  him  by  the  legs,  and  Thorny  dropped  the 
curtain  just  at  the  moment  when  the  wicked  wolf  was 
apparently  in  the  act  of  devouring  the  poor  little  girl, 
with  most  effective  growls. 

They  had  to  come  out  then,  and  did  so,  both  much 
dishevelled  by  the  late  tussle,  for  Sancho's  cap  was  all 
over  one  eye,  and  Betty's  hood  was  anywhere  but  on 
lier  head.  She  made  her  courtesy  prettily,  however; 
her  fellow-actor  bowed  with  as  much  dignity  as  a  short 
night-gown  permitted,  and  they  retired  to  their  well- 
earned  repose. 

Then  Thorny,  looking  much  excited,  appeared  to 
make  the  following  request :  "  As  one  of  the  actors  ir 


CUPID'S  LAST  APPEARANCE.  263 

the  next  piece  is  new  to  the  business,  the  company  must 
all  keep  as  still  as  mice,  and  not  stir  till  I  give  the  word. 
It 's  perfectly  splendid  !  so  don't  you  spoil  it  by  making 
a  row." 

"  What  do  you  suppose  it  is? "  asked  every  one,  and 
listened  with  all  their  might  to  get  a  hint,  if  possible. 
Eui  what  they  heard  only  whetted  their  curiosity  and 
mystified  them  more  and  more.  Bab's  voice  cried  in  a 
loud  whisper,  "Isn't  Ben  beautiful ?"  Then  theie  was 
a  thumping  noise,  and  Miss  Celia  said,  in  an  anxious 
tone,  "  Oh,  do  be  careful,"  while  Ben  laughed  out  as  if 
he  was  too  happy  to  care  who  heard  him,  and  Thorny 
bawled  "  Whoa  !  "  in  a  way  which  would  have  attracted 
attention  if  Lita's  head  had  not  popped  out  of  her  box, 
more  than  once,  to  survey  the  invaders  of  her  abode, 
with  a  much  astonished  expression. 

"Sounds  kind  of  circusy,  don't  it?"  said  Sam  to 
Billy,  who  had  come  out  to  receive  the  compliments  of 
the  company  and  enjoy  the  tableau  at  a  safe  distance. 

"  You  just  wait  till  you  see  what 's  coming.  It  beats 
any  circus  /  ever  saw,"  answered  Billy,  rubbing  his 
hands  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  had  seen  many  instead 
of  but  one. 

"  Ready !  Be  quick  and  get  out  of  the  way  when 
she  goes  off ! "  whispered  Ben,  but  they  heard  him  and 
prepared  for  pistols,  rockets  or  combustibles  of  some 
sort,  as  ships  were  impossible  under  the  circumstances, 
and  no  other  "  she  "  occurred  to  them. 

A  unanimous  "  O-o-o-o ! "  was  heard  when  the  cur- 
tain rose,  but  a  stern  "  Hush  !  "  from  Thorny  kept  them 
mutely  staring  with  all  their  eyes  at  the  grand  spectacle 
of  the  evening.     There  stood  Lita  with  a  wide  flat  saddle 


264  UNDER   THE  LILACS. 

on  her  back,  a  white  head-stall  and  reins,  blue  rosettea 
in  her  ears,  and  the  look  of  a  much-bewildered  beast  m 
her  bright  eyes.  But  who  the  gauzy,  spangled,  winged 
creature  was,  with  a  gilt  crown  on  its  head,  a  little  bow 
in  its  hand,  and  one  white  slipper  in  the  air,  while  the 
other  seemed  merely  to  touch  the  saddle,  no  one  could 
tell  for  a  minute,  so  strange  and  splendid  did  the  appari- 
tion appear.  No  wonder  Ben  was  not  recognized  in 
this  brilliant  disguise,  which  was  more  natural  to  him 
than  Billy's  blue  flannel  or  Thorny's  respectable  gar- 
ments. He  had  so  begged  to  be  allowed  to  show  him- 
self "just  once,"  as  he  used  to  be  in  the  days  when 
11  father  "  tossed  him  up  on  the  bare-backed  old  General, 
for  hundreds  to  see  and  admire,  that  Miss  Celia  had 
consented,  much  against  her  will,  and  hastily  arranged 
some  bits  of  spangled  tarlatan  over  the  white  cotton  suit 
which  was  to  simulate  the  regulation  tights.  Her  old 
dancing  slippers  fitted,  and  gold  paper  did  the  rest, 
while  Ben,  sure  of  his  power  over  Lita,  promised  not 
to  break  his  bones,  and  lived  for  days  on  the  thought 
of  the  moment  when  he  could  show  the  boys  that  he 
had  not  boasted  vainly  of  past  splendors. 

Before  the  delighted  children  could  get  their  breath, 
Lita  gave  signs  of  her  dislike  to  the  foot-lights,  and, 
gathering  up  the  reins  that  lay  on  her  neck,  Ben  gave 
the  Did  cry,  "  Houp*la !  "  and  let  her  go,  as  he  had 
often  done  before,  straight  out  of  the  coach-house  for  a 
gallop  round  the  orchard. 

"  Just  turn  about  and  you  can  see  perfectly  well,  but 
stay  where  you  are  till  he  comes  back,"  commanded 
Thorny,  as  signs  of  commotion  appeared  in  the  excited 
audience. 


CUPID'S  LAST  APPEARANCE.  265 

Round  went  the  twenty  children  as  if  turned  by  one 
crank,  and  sitting  there  they  looked  out  into  the  moon- 
light where  the  shining  figure  flashed  to  and  fro,  now  so 
jiear  they  could  see  the  smiling  face  under  the  crown, 
qow  so  far  away  that  it  glittered  like  a  fire-fly  among 
the  dusky  green.  Lita  enjoyed  that  race  as  heartily 
as  she  had  done  several  others  of  late,  and  caracoled 
about  as  if  anxious  to  make  up  for  her  lack  of  skill  by 
speed  and  obedience.  How  much  Ben  liked  it  there  is 
no  need  to  tell,  yet  it  was  a  proof  of  the  good  which 
three  months  of  a  quiet,  useful  life  had  done  him,  that 
even  as  he  pranced  gayly  under  the  boughs  thick  with 
the  red  and  yellow  apples  almost  ready  to  be  gathered, 
he  found  this  riding  in  the  fresh  air  with  only  his 
mates  for  an  audience  pleasanter  than  the  crowded  tent, 
the  tired  horses,  profane  men,  and  painted  women, 
friendly  as  some  of  them  had  been  to  him. 

After  the  first  burst  was  over,  he  felt  rather  glad,  on 
the  whole,  that  he  was  going  back  to  plain  clothes, 
helpful  school,  and  kindly  people,  who  cared  more  to 
have  him  a  good  boy  than  the  most  famous  Cupid  that 
ever  stood  on  one  leg  with  a  fast  horse  under  him. 

"  You  may  make  as  much  noise  as  you  like,  now; 
Lita 's  had  her  run  and  will  be  as  quiet  as  a  lamb  after  it 
Pull  up,  Ben,  and  come  in  ;  sister  says  you  '11  get  cold," 
shouted  Thorny,   as  the  rider  came    cantering  round 
aftei  a  leap  over  the  lodge  gate  and  back  again. 

So  Ben  pulled  up,  and  the  admiring  boys  and  girls 
were  allowed  to  gather  about  him,  loud  in  their  praises 
as  they  examined  the  pretty  mare  and  the  mythological 
character  who  lay  easily  on  her  back.  He  looked  very 
little  like  the  god  of  love  now ;  for  he  had  lost  one 


266  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

slipper  and  splashed  his  white  legs  with  dew  and  dust, 
the  crown  had  slipped  down  upon  his  neck,  and  the 
paper  wings  hung  in  an  apple-tree  where  he  had  left 
them  as  he  went  by.  No  trouble  in  recognizing  Ben, 
new ;  but  somehow  he  didn't  want  to  be  seen,  and,  in- 
stead of  staying  to  be  praised,  he  soon  slipped  away, 
making  Lita  his  excuse  to  vanish  behind  the  curtain 
while  the  rest  went  into  the  house  to  have  a  finishing-off 
game  of  blindman's-buff  in  the  big  kitchen. 

"Well,  Ben,  are  you  satisfied?"  asked  Miss  Celia, 
as  she  stayed  a  moment  to  unpin  the  remains  of  his 
gauzy  scarf  and  tunic. 

"  Yes  'm,  thank  you,  it  was  tip-top." 

"  But  you  look  rather  sober.  Are  you  tired,  or  is  it 
because  you  don't  want  to  take  these  trappings  off  and 
be  plain  Ben  again  ?  "  she  said,  looking  down  into  his  face 
as  he  lifted  it  for  her  to  free  him  from  his  gilded  collar. 

"I  want  to  take  'em  off;  for  somehow  I  don't  feel 
respectable,"  and  he  kicked  away  the  crown  he  had 
helped  to  make  so  carefully,  adding  with  a  glance  that 
said  more  than  his  words  :  "  I  'd  rather  be  '  plain  Ben ' 
than  any  one  else,  for  you  like  to  have  me." 

"  Indeed  I  do  ;  and  I  'm  so  glad  to  hear  you  say  that, 
because  I  was  afraid  you  'd  long  to  be  off  to  the  old 
ways,  and  all  I  Ve  tried  to  do  would  be  undone.  Would 
you  like  to  go  back,  Ben?"  and  Miss  Celia  held  his 
chin  an  instant,  to  watch  the  brown  face  that  looked  so 
honestly  back  at  her. 

"  No,  I  wouldn't  —  unless  —  he  was  there  and  wanted 
me" 

The  chin  quivered  just  a  bit,  but  the  black  e}-es  were 
as  bright  as  ever,  and  the  boy's  voice  so  earnest,  she 


CUPID'S  LAST  APPEARANCE.  267 

knew  he  spoke  the  truth,  and  laid  her  white  hand  softly 
on  his  head,  as  she  answered  in  the  tone  he  loved  so 
much,  because  no  one  else  had  ever  used  it  to  him,  — 

"  Father  is  not  there ;  but  I  know  he  wants  you, 
dear,  and  I  am  sure  he  would  rather  see  you  in  a  home 
like  this  than  in  the  place  you  came  from.  Now  go  and 
dress  ;  but,  tell  me  first,  has  it  been  a  happy  birthday  ?  " 

"  Oh,  Miss  Celia !  I  didn't  know  they  could  be  so 
beautiful,  and  this  is  the  beautifulest  part  of  it ;  I  don't 
know  how  to  thank  you,  but  I  'm  going  to  try  — "  and, 
finding  words  wouldn't  come  fast  enough,  Ben  just  put 
Ms  two  arms  round  her,  quite  speechless  with  gratitude  ; 
then,  as  if  ashamed  of  his  little  outburst,  he  knelt 
down  in  a  great  hurry  to  untie  his  one  shoe. 

But  Miss  Celia  liked  his  answer  better  than  thp  finest 
speech  ever  made  her,  and  went  away  through  the  moon- 
light, saying  to  herself,  — 

"  If  I  can  bring  one  lost  lamb  into  the  fold  I  shall 
be  the  fitter  for  a  shepherd's  wife,  by-and-by." 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

A    BOrS    BARGAIN. 

IT  was  some  days  before  the  children  were  tired  of 
talking  over  Ben's  birthday  party;  for  it  was  a 
great  event  in  their  small  world ;  but,  gradually,  newer 
pleasures  came  to  occupy  their  minds,  and  they  began 
to  plan  the  nutting  frolics  which  always  followed  the 
early  frosts.  While  waiting  for  Jack  to  open  the 
chestnut  burrs,  they  varied  the  monotony  of  school 
life  by  a  lively  scrimmage  long  known  as  "  the  wood- 
pile fight." 

The  girls  liked  to  play  in  the  half-empty  shed,  and 
the  boys,  merely  for  the  fun  of  teasing,  declared  that 
they  should  not,  so  blocked  up  the  door-way  as  fast  as 
the  girls  cleared  it.  Seeing  that  the  squabble  was  a 
merry  one,  and  the  exercise  better  for  all  than  lounging 
in  the  sun  or  reading  in  school  during  recess,  Teacher 
did  not  interfere,  and  the  barrier  rose  and  fell  almost  as 
regularly  as  the  tide. 

It  would  be  difficult  to  say  which  side  worked  the 
harder ;  for  the  boys  went  before  school  began  to  build 
up  the  barricade,  and  the  girls  stayed  after  lessons 
were  over  to  pull  down  the  last  one  made  in  afternoon 
recess.  They  had  their  play-time  first ;  and,  while  the 
boys  waited  inside,  they  heard  the  shouts  of  the  girls, 


A  BOTS  BARGAIN.  269 

the  "banging  of  the  wood,  and  the  final  crash,  as  the 
well-packed  pile  went  down.  Then,  as  the  lassies  came 
in,  rosy,  breathless,  and  triumphant,  the  lads  rushed  out 
to  man  the  breach,  and  labor  gallantly  till  all  was  as 
tight  as  hard  blows  could  make  it. 

So  the  battle  raged,  and  bruised  knuckles,  splinters 
in  fingers,  torn  clothes,  and  rubbed  shoes,  were  the  only 
wounds  received,  while  a  great  deal  of  fun  was  had  out 
of  the  maltreated  logs,  and  a  lasting  peace  secured 
between  two  of  the  boys. 

When  the  party  was  safely  over,  Sam  began  to  fall 
into  his  old  way  of  tormenting  Ben  by  calling  names, 
as  it  cost  no  exertion  to  invent  trying  speeches,  and 
slyly  utter  them  when  most  likely  to  annoy.  Ben 
bore  it  as  well  as  he  could ;  but  fortune  favored  him  at 
last,  as  it  usually  does  the  patient,  and  he  was  able  to 
make  his  own  terms  with  his  tormentor. 

When  the  girls  demolished  the  wood-pile,  they  per- 
formed a  jubilee  chorus  on  combs,  and  tin  kettles, 
played  like  tambourines ;  the  boys  celebrated  their 
victories  with  shrill  whistles,  and  a  drum  accompani- 
ment with  fists  on  the  shed  walls.  Billy  brought  his 
drum,  and  this  was  such  an  addition  that  Sam  hunted 
up  an  old  one  of  his  little  brother's,  in  order  that  he 
might  join  the  drum  corps.  He  had  no  sticks,  however, 
and,  casting  about  in  his  mind  for  a  good  substitute  foi 
the  genuine  thing,  bethought  him  of  bulrushes. 

"Those  will  do  first-rate,  and  there  are  lots  in  the 
ma'sh,  if  I  can  only  get  'em,"  he  said  to  himself, 
and  turned  off  from  the  road  on  his  way  home  to  get 
a  supply. 

Now,  this  marsh  was  a  treacherous  spot,  and  the 


270  UNDER   THE  LILACS. 

tragic  story  was  told  of  a  cow  who  got  in  there  and 
sank  till  nothing  was  visible  but  a  pair  of  horns  above 
the  mud,  which  suffocated  the  unwary  beast.  For  this 
reason  it  was  called  "  Cowslip  Marsh,"  the  wags  said, 
though  it  was  generally  believed  to  be  so  named  for  the 
yellow  flowers  which  grew  there  in  great  profusion  in 
the  spring. 

Sam  had  seen  Ben  hop  nimbly  from  one  tuft  of  grass 
to  another  when  he  went  to  gather  cowslips  for  Betty, 
and  the  stout  boy  thought  he  could  do  the  same.  Two 
or  three  heavy  jumps  landed  him,  not  among  the  bul- 
rushes, as  he  had  hoped,  but  in  a  pool  of  muddy  water, 
where  he  sank  up  to  his  middle  with  alarming  rapidity. 
Much  scared,  he  tried  to  wade  out,  but  could  only 
flounder  to  a  tussock  of  grass,  and  cling  there,  while 
he  endeavored  to  kick  his  legs  free.  He  got  them  out, 
but  struggled  in  vain  to  coil  them  up  or  to  hoist  his 
heavy  body  upon  the  very  small  island  in  this  sea  of 
mud.  Down  they  splashed  again ;  and  Sam  gave  a 
dismal  groan  as  he  thought  of  the  leeches  and  water- 
snakes  which  might  be  lying  in  wait  below.  Visions 
of  the  lost  cow  also  flashed  across  his  agitated  mind, 
and  he  gave  a  despairing  shout  very  like  a  distracted 
"Moo!" 

Few  people  passed  along  the  lane,  and  the  sun  was 
setting,  so  the  prospect  of  a  night  in  the  marsh  nerved 
Sam  to  make  a  frantic  plunge  toward  the  bulrush  island, 
which  was  nearer  than  the  main-land,  and  looked  firmer 
than  any  tussock  round  him.  But  he  failed  to  reach 
this  haven  of  rest,  and  was  forced  to  stop  at  an  old 
stump  which  stuck  up,  looking  very  like  the  moss-grown 
horns  of  the  "dear  departed."     Roosting  here,  Sam 


A   BOY'S  BARGAIN.  271 

began  to  shout  for  aid  in  every  key  possible  to  the 
human  voice.  Such  hoots  and  howls,  whistles  and 
roars,  never  woke  the  echoes  of  the  lonely  marsh  be- 
fore, or  scared  the  portly  frog  who  resided  there  in  calm 
seclusion. 

He  hardly  expected  any  reply  but  the  astonished 
"  Caw ! "  of  the  crow,  who  sat  upon  a  fence  watching 
him  with  gloomy  interest ;  and  when  a  cheerful  "  Hullo, 
there  !  "  sounded  from  the  lane,  he  was  so  grateful  that 
tears  of  joy  rolled  down  his  fat  cheeks. 

44  Come  on!  I'm  in  the  ma'sh.  Lend  a  hand  and 
get  me  out ! "  bawled  Sam,  anxiously  waiting  for  his 
deliverer  to  appear,  for  he  could  only  see  a  hat  bob- 
bing along  behind  the  hazel-bushes  that  fringed  the 
lane. 

Steps  crashed  through  the  bushes,  and  then  over  the 
wall  came  an  active  figure,  at  the  sight  of  which  Sam 
was  almost  ready  to  dive  out  of  sight,  for,  of  all  pos- 
sible boys,  who  should  it  be  but  Ben,  the  last  person  in 
the  world  whom  he  would  like  to  have  see  him  in  his 
present  pitiful  plight. 

44  Is  it  you,  Sam?  Well,  you  are  in  a  nice  fix  !  "  and 
Ben's  eyes  began  to  twinkle  with  mischievous  merriment, 
as  well  they  might,  for  Sam  certainly  was  a  spectacle 
to  convulse  the  soberest  person.  Perched  unsteadily 
on  the  gnarled  stump,  with  his  muddy  legs  drawn  up, 
his  dismal  face  splashed  with  mud,  and  the  whole  lower 
half  of  his  body  as  black  as  if  he  had  been  dipped  in 
an  inkstand,  he  presented  such  a  comically  doleful 
object  that  Ben  danced  about,  laughing  like  a  naughty 
will-o'-the-wisp  who,  having  led  a  traveller  astray,  then 
fell  to  jeering  at  him. 


272  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

"Stop  that,  or  I'll  knock  your  head  off!  "  roared 
Sam,  in  a  rage. 

"  Come  on  and  do  it;  I  give  you  leave,"  answered 
Ben,  sparring  away  derisively  as  the  other  tottered  on 
his  perch,  and  was  forced  to  hold  tight  lest  he  should 
tumble  off. 

"Don't  laugh,  there's  a  good  chap,  but  fish  me  out 
somehow,  or  I  shall  get  my  death  sitting  here  all  wet 
and  cold,"  whined  Sam,  changing  his  tone,  and  feeling 
bitterly  that  Ben  had  the  upper  hand  now. 

Ben  felt  it  also ;  and,  though  a  very  good-natured 
boy,  could  not  resist  the  temptation  to  enjoy  this  ad- 
vantage for  a  moment  at  least. 

"  I  won't  laugh  if  I  can  help  it ;  only  you  do  look  so 
like  a  fat,  speckled  frog,  I  may  not  be  able  to  hold  in. 
I  '11  pull  you  out  pretty  soon  ;  but  first  I  'm  going  to  talk 
to  you,  Sam,"  said  Ben,  sobering  down  as  he  took  a 
seat  on  the  little  point  of  land  nearest  the  stranded 
Samuel. 

"  Hurry  up,  then ;  I'm  as  stiff  as  a  board  now,  and 
it 's  no  fun  sitting  here  on  this  knotty  old  thing,"  growled 
Sam,  with  a  discontented  squirm. 

"  Dare  say  not,  but  '  it  is  good  for  you,'  as  you  say 
when  you  rap  me  over  the  head.  Look  here,  I  've  got 
you  in  a  tight  place,  and  I  don't  mean  to  help  you  a 
bit  till  you  promise  to  let  me  alone.  Now  then ! "  and 
Ben's  face  grew  stern  with  his  remembered  wrongs  as 
he  grimly  eyed  his  discomfited  foe. 

"I'll  promise  fast  enough  if  you  won't  tell  any  one 
about  this,"  answered  Sam,  surveying  himself  and  his 
surroundings  with  great  disgust. 

"  I  shall  do  as  I  like  about  that." 


A   BOrS    BARGAIN.  273 

"Then  I  won't  promise  a  thing!  I'm  not  going 
to  have  the  whole  school  laughing  at  me,"  protested 
Sam,  who  hated  to  be  ridiculed  even  more  than  Ben 
did.' 

"  Very  well ;  good-night ! "  and  Ben  walked  off  with 
his  hands  in  his  pockets  as  coolly  as  if  the  bog  was 
Sam's  favorite  retreat. 

"  Hold  on,  don't  be  in  such  a  hurry ! "  shouted  Sam, 
seeing  little  hope  of  rescue  if  he  let  this  chance  go. 

"  All  right ! "  and  back  came  Ben,  ready  for  further 
negotiations. 

"I'll  promise  not  to  plague  you,  if  you'll  promise 
not  to  tell  on  me.     Is  that  what  you  want?" 

"  Now  I  come  to  think  of  it,  there  is  one  thing  more. 
I  like  to  make  a  good  bargain  when  I  begin,"  said  Ben, 
with  a  shrewd  air.  ' '  You  must  promise  to  keep  Mose 
quiet,  too.  He  follows  your  lead,  and  if  you  tell  him 
to  stop  it  he  will.  If  I  was  big  enough,  I  'd  make  you 
hold  your  tongues.     I  ain't,  so  we  '11  try  this  way." 

"  Yes,  yes,  I'll  see  to  Mose.  Now,  bring  on  a  rail, 
there 's  a  good  fellow.  I  've  got  a  horrid  cramp  in  my 
legs,"  began  Sam,  thinking  he  had  bought  help  dearly, 
yet  admiring  Ben's  cleverness  in  making  the  most  of 
his  chance. 

Ben  brought  the  rail,  but,  just  as  he  was  about  to  lay 
it  from  the  main-land  to  the  nearest  tussock,  he  stopped, 
saying,  with  the  naughty  twinkle  in  his  black  eyes  again, 
' '  One  more  little  thing  must  be  settled  first,  and  then 
I  '11  get  you  ashore.  Promise  you  won't  plague  the  girls 
either,  'specially  Bab  and  Betty.  You  pull  their  hair, 
and  they  don't  like  it." 

tk  Don't  neither  !  Wouldn't  touch  that  Bab  for  a  dol- 
12*  B 


^74  UNDER    THE  LILACS 

lar ;  she  scratches  and  bites  like  a  mad  cat,"  was  Sam's 
sulky  reply. 

4 'Glad  of  it;  she  can  take  care  of  herself.  Betty 
can't ;  and  if  you  touch  one  of  her  pig-tails  I  '11  up  and 
tell  right  out  how  I  found  you  snivelling  in  the  ma'sh 
like  a  great  baby.  So  now  !  "  and  Ben  emphasized  his 
threat  with  a  blow  of  the  suspended  rail  which  splashed 
the  water  over  poor  Sam,  quenching  his  last  spark  of 
resistance. 

"Stop!    I  will!  — I  will!" 

1 '  True  as  you  live  and  breathe !  "  demanded  Ben, 
sternly  binding  him  by  the  most  solemn  oath  he  knew. 

"True  as  I  live  and  breathe,"  echoed  Sam,  dole- 
fully relinquishing  his  favorite  pastime  of  pulling  Betty's 
braids  and  asking  if  she  was  at  home. 

"I'll  come  over  there  and  crook  fingers  on  the  bar- 
gain," said  Ben,  settling  the  rail  and  running  over  it  to 
the  tuft,  then  bridging  another  pool  and  crossing  again 
till  he  came  to  the  stump. 

"I  never  thought  of  that  way,"  said  Sam,  watching 
him  with  much  inward  chagrin  at  his  own  failure. 

"I  should  think  you'd  written  'Look  before  you 
leap,'  in  your  copy-book  often  enough  to  get  the  idea 
into  your  stupid  head.  Come,  crook,"  commanded 
Ben,  leaning  forward  with  extended  little  finger. 

Sam  obediently  performed  the  ceremony,  and  then 
Ben  sat  astride  one  of  the  horns  of  the  stump  while  the 
muddy  Crusoe  went  slowly  across  the  rail  from  point  to 
point  till  he  landed  safely  on  the  shore,  when  he  turned 
about  and  asked  with  an  ungrateful  jeer,  — 

"Now  what's  going  to  become  of  you,  old  Look- 
before-}Tou-leap  ?  " 


a  BOY'S  BARGAIN.  275 

"  Mad  turtles  can  only  sit  on  a  stump  and  bawl  till 
they  are  taken  off,  but  frogs  have  legs  worth  something, 
and  are  not  afraid  of  a  little  water,"  answered  Ben, 
hopping  away  in  an  opposite  direction,  since  the  pools 
between  him  and  Sam  were  too  wide  for  even  his  lively 
tegs. 

Sam  waddled  off  to  the  brook  in  the  lane  to 
rinse  the  mud  from  his  nether  man  before  facing  his 
mother,  and  was  just  wringing  himself  out  when  Ben 
came  up,  breathless  but  good-natured,  for  he  felt  that 
he  had  made  an  excellent  bargain  for  himself  and 
friends. 

"  Better  wash  your  face  ;  it's  as  speckled  as  a  tiger- 
lily.  Here 's  my  handkerchief  if  yours  is  wet,"  he  said, 
pulling  out  a  dingy  article  which  had  evidently  already 
done  service  as  a  towel. 

"  Don't  want  it,"  muttered  Sam,  gruffly,  as  he  poured 
the  water  out  of  his  muddy  shoes. 

"/  was  taught  to  say  'Thanky'  when  folks  got  me 
out  of  scrapes.  But  you  never  had  much  bringing  up, 
though  you  do  4  live  in  a  house  with  a  gambrel  roof,' " 
retorted  Ben,  sarcastically  quoting  Sam's  frequent  boast ; 
then  he  walked  off,  much  disgusted  with  the  ingratitude 
of  man. 

Sam  forgot  his  manners,  but  he  remembered  his 
promise,  and  kept  it  so  well  that  all  the  school  won- 
dered. No  one  could  guess  the  secret  of  Ben's  power 
over  him,  though  it  was  evident  that  he  had  gained  it 
in  some  sudden  way,  for  at  the  least  sign  of  Sam's 
former  tricks  Ben  would  crook  his  little  finger  and  wag 
it  warningly,  or  call  out  "  Bulrushes ! "  and  Sam  sub- 
sided with  reluctant  submission,  to  the  great  amaze- 


276  UNDER   THE  LILACS. 

ment  of  his  mates.  When  asked  what  it  meant,  Sam 
turned  sulky ;  but  Ben  had  much  fun  out  of  it,  assur- 
ing the  other  boys  that  those  were  the  signs  and  pass- 
word of  a  secret  society  to  which  he  and  Sam  belonged, 
and  promised  to  tell  them  all  about  it  if  Sam  would  give 
him  leave,  which,  of  course,  he  would  not. 

This  mystery,  and  the  vain  endeavors  to  find  it  out, 
caused  a  lull  in  the  war  of  the  wood-pile,  and  before 
any  new  game  was  invented  something  happened  which 
gave  the  children  plenty  to  talk  about  for  a  time. 

A  week  after  the  secret  alliance  was  formed,  Ben  ran 
m  one  evening  with  a  letter  for  Miss  Celia.  He  found 
her  enjoying  the  cheery  blaze  of  the  pine-cones  the  little 
girls  had  picked  up  for  her,  and  Bab  and  Betty  sat  in 
the  small  chairs  rocking  luxuriously  as  they  took  turns 
to  throw  on  the  pretty  fuel.  Miss  Celia  turned  quickly 
to  receive  the  expected  letter,  glanced  at  the  writing, 
post-mark  and  stamp,  with  an  air  of  delighted  surprise, 
then  clasped  it  close  in  both  hands,  saying,  as  she  hur- 
ried out  of  the  room,  — 

"  He  has  come  !  he  has  come !  Now  you  may  tell 
them,  Thorny." 

"  Tell  us  what?"  asked  Bab,  pricking  up  her  ears  at 
once. 

"  Oh,  it's  only  that  George  has  come,  and  I  suppose 
we  shall  go  and  get  married  right  away,"  answered 
Thorny,  rubbing  his  hands  as  if  he  enjoyed  the  pros- 
pect. 

"Are  you  going  to  be  married?"  asked  Betty,  so 
soberly  that  the  boys  shouted,  and  Thorny,  with  diffi- 
culty, composed  himself  sufficiently  to  explain. 

"  No,  child,  not  just  yet ;  but  sister  is,  and  I  must 


A  BOTS   BARGAIN.  277 

go  and  see  that  is  all  done  up  ship-shape,  and  bring 
you  home  some  wedding-cake.  Ben  will  take  care  of 
you  while  I'm  gone." 

"  When  shall  you  go  ?  "  asked  Bab,  beginning  to  long 
for  her  share  of  cake. 

"To-morrow,  I  guess.  Celia  has  been  packed  and 
ready  for  a  week.  We  agreed  to  meet  George  in  New 
York,  and  be  married  as  soon  as  he  got  his  best  clothes 
unpacked.  We  are  men  of  our  word,  and  off  we  go. 
Won't  it  be  fun?" 

"But  when  will  you  come  back  again?"  questioned 
Betty,  looking  anxious. 

"Don't  know.  Sister  wants  to  come  soon,  but  I'd 
rather  have  our  honeymoon  somewhere  else, — Niagara, 
Newfoundland,  West  Point,  or  the  Eocky  Mountains," 
said  Thorny,  mentioning  a  few  of  the  places  he  most 
desired  to  see. 

" Do  you  like  him?"  asked  Ben,  very  naturally  won 
dering  if  the  new  master  would  approve  of  the  young 
man-of-all-work. 

"Don't  I?  George  is  regularly  jolly;  though  now 
he 's  a  minister,  perhaps  he  '11  stiffen  up  and  turn  sober. 
Won't  it  be  a  shame  if  he  does?"  and  Thorny  looked 
alarmed  at  the  thought  of  losing  his  congenial  friend. 

"Tell  about  him;  Miss  Celia  said  you  might,"  put 
in  Bab,  whose  experience  of  "jolly"  ministers  had 
been  small. 

"  Oh,  there  isn't  much  about  it.  We  met  in  Switzer- 
land going  up  Mount  St.  Bernard  in  a  storm,  and  — " 

"  Where  the  good  dogs  live? "  inquired  Betty,  hoping 
they  would  come  into  the  story. 

"  Yes ;   we  spent  the  night  up  there,  and  George 


278  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

gave  us  his  room ;  the  house  was  so  full,  and  ho 
wouldn't  let  me  go  down  a  steep  place  where  I  wanted 
to,  and  Celia  thought  he  'd  saved  my  life,  and  was  very 
good  to  him.  Then  we  kept  meeting,  and  the  first  thing 
I  knew  she  went  and  was  engaged  to  him.  I  didn't 
care,  only  she  would  come  home  so  he  might  go  on 
studjing  hard  and  get  through  quick.  That  was  a  year 
ago,  and  last  winter  we  were  in  New  York  at  uncle's ; 
and  then,  in  the  spring,  I  was  sick,  and  we  came  here, 
and  that's  all." 

"  Shall  you  live  here  always  when  you  come  back?" 
asked  Bab,  as  Thorny  paused  for  breath. 

"  Celia  wants  to.  I  shall  go  to  college,  so  /  don't 
mind.  George  is  going  to  help  the  old  minister  here 
and  see  how  he  likes  it.  I'm  to  study  with  him,  and 
if  he  is  as  pleasant  as  he  used  to  be  we  shall  have  cap- 
ital times,  —  see  if  we  don't." 

"  I  wonder  if  he  will  want  me  round,"  said  Ben,  feel* 
ing  no  desire  to  be  a  tramp  again. 

"/do,  so  you  needn't  fret  about  that,  my  hearty," 
answered  Thorny,  with  a  resounding  slap  on  the  shoulder 
which  re-assured  Ben  more  than  any  promises. 

"  I  'd  like  to  see  a  live  wedding,  then  we  could  play 
it  with  our  dolls.  I've  got  a  nice  piece  of  mosquito 
netting  for  a  veil,  and  Belinda's  white  dress  is  clean. 
Do  you  s'pose  Miss  Celia  will  ask  us  to  hers?"  said 
Betty  to  Bab,  as  the  boys  began  to  discuss  St.  Bernard 
logs  with  spirit. 

"I  wish  I  could,  dears,"  answered  a  voice  behind 
them  ;  and  there  was  Miss  Celia,  looking  so  happy  that 
the  little  girls  wondered  what  the  letter  could  have  said 
to  give  her  such  bright  eyes  and  smiling  lips.     "  I  shall 


A    BOY'S  BARGA1JS.  279 

not  be  gone  long,  or  be  a  bit  changed  when  I  come 
back,  to  live  among  you  years  I  hope,  for  I  am  fond 
of  the  old  place  now,  and  mean  it  shall  be  home,"  she 
added,  caressing  the  yellow  heads  as  if  they  were  dear 
to  her. 

"Oh,  goody!  ■  cried  Bab,  while  Betty  whispered 
with  both  arms  round  Miss  Celia,  — 

' '  I  don't  think  we  could  bear  to  have  anybody  else 
come  here  to  live." 

4 '  It  is  very  pleasant  to  hear  you  say  that,  and  I  mean 
to  make  others  feel  so,  if  I  can.  I  have  been  trying  a 
little  this  summer,  but  when  I  come  back  I  shall  go  to 
work  in  earnest  to  be  a  good  minister's  wife,  and  you 
must  help  me." 

"We  will,"  promised  both  children,  ready  for  any 
thing  except  preaching  in  the  high  pulpit. 

Then  Miss  Celia  turned  to  Ben,  saying,  in  the  re- 
spectful  way  that  always  made  him  feel,  at  least  twenty- 
five,  — 

' '  We  shall  be  off  to-morrow,  and  I  leave  you  in 
charge.  Go  on  just  as  if  we  were  here,  and  be  sure 
nothing  will  be  changed  as  far  as  you  are  concerned 
when  we  come  back." 

Ben's  face  beamed  at  that ;  but  the  only  way  he 
could  express  his  relief  was  by  making  such  a  blaze 
in  honor  of  the  occasion  that  he  nearly  roasted  the 
company. 

Next  morning,  the  brother  and  sister  slipped  quietly 
away,  and  the  children  hurried  to  school,  eager  to  tell 
the  great  news  that  ' '  Miss  Celia  and  Thorny  had  gone 
to  be  married,  and  were  coming  back  to  live  here  for 
ever  and  ever." 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

SOMEBODY  COMES. 

BAB  and  Betty  had  been  playing  in  the  avenue  all 
the  afternoon  several  weeks  later,  but  as  the 
shadows  began  to  lengthen  both  agreed  to  sit  upon  the 
gate  and  rest  while  waiting  for  Ben,  who  had  gone  nut- 
ting with  a  part}T  of  boys.  When  they  played  house  Bab 
was  always  the  father,  and  went  hunting  or  fishing  with 
great  energy  and  success,  bringing  home  all  sorts  of 
game,  from  elephants  and  crocodiles  to  humming-birds 
and  minnows.  Betty  was  the  mother,  and  a  most  notable 
little  housewife,  always  mixing  up  imaginary  delicacies 
with  sand  and  dirt  in  old  pans  and  broken  china,  which 
she  baked  in  an  oven  of  her  own  construction. 

Both  had  worked  hard  that  day,  and  were  glad  to 
retire  to  their  favorite  lounging-place,  where  Bab  was 
happy  trying  to  walk  across  the  wide  top  bar  without 
falling  off,  and  Betty  enjoyed  slow,  luxurious  swings 
while  her  sister  was  recovering  from  her  tumbles.  On 
this  occasion,  having  indulged  their  respective  tastes, 
thej7  paused  for  a  brief  interval  of  conversation,  sitting 
side  by  side  on  the  gate  like  a  pair  of  plump  gray 
chickens  gone  to  roost. 

"  Don't  you  hope  Ben  will  get  his  bag  full?  We 
shall  have  such  fun  eating   nuts  evenings,"  observed 


SOMEBODY  COMES.  281 

Bab,  wrapping  her  arms  in  her  apron,  for  it  was  October 
now,  and  the  air  was  growing  keen. 

"  Yes,  and  Ma  says  we  may  boil  some  in  our  little 
kettles.  Ben  promised  we  should  have  half,"  answered 
Betty,  still  intent  on  her  cookery. 

" 1  shall  save  some  of  mine  for  Thorny." 

M  I  shall  keep  lots  of  mine  for  Miss  Celia.'' 

'*  Doesn't  it  seem  more  than  two  weeks  since  she 
*ent  away?  " 

"  I  wonder  what  she  '11  bring  us." 

Before  Bab  could  conjecture,  the  sound  of  a  step  and 
a  familiar  whistle  made  both  look  expectantly  toward 
the  turn  in  the  road,  all  ready  to  cry  out  in  one  voice, 
"  How  many  have  yo\x  got?  "  Neither  spoke  a  word, 
however,  for  the  figure  which  presently  appeared  was 
not  Ben,  but  a  stranger,  —  a  man  who  stopped  whistling, 
and  came  slowly  on  dusting  his  shoes  in  the  way-side 
grass,  and  brushing  the  sleeves  of  his  shabby  velveteen 
coat  as  if  anxious  to  freshen  himself  up  a  bit. 

"It's  a  tramp,  let's  run  away,"  whispered  Betty, 
after  a  hast}r  look 

"  I  ain't  afraid,"  and  Bab  was  about  to  assume  her 
boldest  look  when  a  sneeze  spoilt  it,  and  made  her 
clutch  the  gate  to  hold  on. 

At  that  unexpected  sound  the  man  looked  up,  show- 
ing a  thin,  dark  face,  with  a  pair  of  sharp,  black  eyes, 
which  surveyed  the  little  girls  so  steadily  that  Betty 
quaked,  and  Bab  began  to  wish  she  had  at  least  jumped 
down  inside  the  gate. 

"  How  are  you?  "  said  the  man  with  a  good-natured 
nod  and  smile,  as  if  to  re-assure  the  round-eyed  children 
staring  at  him. 


282  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

"  Pretty  well,  thank  you,  sir,"  responded  Bab, 
politely  nodding  back  at  him. 

"  Folks  at  home?  "  asked  the  man,  looking  over  their 
heads  toward  the  house. 

"  Only  Ma ;  all  the  rest  have  gone  to  be  married." 

"  That  sounds  lively.  At  the  other  place  all  the 
folks  had  gone  to  a  funeral,"  and  the  man  laughed  as 
he  glanced  at  the  big  house  on  the  hill. 

"  Why,  do  yo\i  know  the  Squire?"  exclaimed  Bab, 
much  surprised  and  re-assured. 

"  Come  on  purpose  to  see  him.  Just  strolling  round 
till  he  gets  back,"  with  an  impatient  sort  of  sigh. 

"  Betty  thought  you  was  a  tramp,  but  I  wasn't 
afraid.  I  like  tramps  ever  since  Ben  came,"  explained 
Bab,  with  her  usual  candor. 

44  Who 's  Ben  !  "  and  the  man  came  nearer  so  quickly 
that  Betty  nearly  fell  backward.  4 '  Don't  you  be  scared, 
Sissy.  I  like  little  girls,  so  you  set  easy  and  tell  me 
about  Ben,"  he  added,  in  a  persuasive  tone,  as  he 
leaned  on  the  gate  so  near  that  both  could  see  what  a 
friendly  face  he  had  in  spite  of  its  eager,  anxious  look. 

"  Ben  is  Miss  Celia's  boy.  We  found  him  most 
starved  in  the  coach-house,  and  he  's  been  here  ever 
since,"  answered  Bab,  comprehensively. 

44  Tell  me  all  about  it.  I  like  tramps,  too,"  and  the 
man  looked  as  if  he  did  very  much,  as  Bab  told  the 
little  story  in  a  few  childish  words  that  were  better  than 
a  much  more  elegant  account. 

"  You  were  very  good  to  the  little  feller,"  was  all  the 
man  said  when  she  ended  her  somewhat  confused  tale, 
in  wnich  she  had  jumbled  the  old  coach  and  Miss  Celia, 
dinner-pails  and  nutting,  Sancho  and  circuses 


SOMEBODY  COMES.  283 

"  'Course  we  were  !  He  's  a  nice  boy  and  we  are  fond 
of  him,  and  he  likes  us,"  said  Bab,  heartily. 

"  'Specialty  me,"  put  in  Betty,  quite  at  ease  now,  for 
the  black  e3'es  had  softened  wonderfully,  and  the  brown 
face  was  smiling  all  over. 

"  Don't  wonder  a  mite.  You  are  the  nicest  pair  of 
little  girls  I  've  seen  this  long  time,"  and  the  man  put  a 
hand  on  either  side  of  them,  as  if  he  wanted  to  hug  the 
chubbjr  children.  But  he  didn't  do  it ;  he  merely 
smiled  and  stood  there  asking  questions  +ill  the  two 
chatterboxes  had  told  him  every  thing  there  was  to 
tell  in  the  most  confiding  manner,  for  he  very  soon 
ceased  to  seem  like  a  stranger,  and  looked  so  familiar 
that  Bab,  growing  inquisitive  in  her  turn,  suddenly 
said,  — 

"  Haven't  you  ever  been  here  before?  It  seems  as  tf 
I  'd  seen  you." 

"Never  in  my  life.     Guess  you've  seen  somebody 
that  looks  like  me,"  and  the  black  eyes  twinkled  for  a 
minute  as  they  looked  into  the  puzzled  little  faces  be 
fore  him.     Then  he  said,  soberly,  — 

"  I  'm  looking  round  for  a  likely  boy  ;  don't  you  think 
this  Ben  would  suit  me?  I  want  just  such  a  lively  sort 
of  chap." 

"  Are  you  a  circus  man?  "  asked  Bab,  quickly. 

"  Well,  no,  not  now.     I  'm  in  better  business." 

"I'm  glad  of  it  —  we  don't  approve  of  'em;  but  I 
do  think  the}'  're  splendid  !  " 

Bab  began  by  gravely  quoting  Miss  Celia,  and  ended 
with  an  irrepressible  burst  of  admiration  which  con- 
trasted drolly  with  her  first  remark. 

Betty  added,  anxiously :  ' '  We  can't  let  Ben  go  any 


281  UNDER    THE   LILACS. 

way.  I  know  he  wouldn't  want  to,  and  Miss  Celia 
would  feel  bad.     Please  don't  ask  him." 

44  He  can  do  as  he  likes,  I  suppose.  He  hasn't  got 
any  folks  of  his  own,  has  he  ?  " 

44  No,  his  father  died  in  California,  and  Ben  felt  so 
bad  he  cried,  and  we  were  real  sorry,  and  gave  him  a 
piece  of  Ma,  'cause  he  was  so  lonesome,"  answered 
Betty,  in  her  tenler  little  voice,  with  a  pleading  look 
which  made  the  man  stroke  her  smooth  cheek  and  say, 
quite  softly,  — 

44  Bless  your  heart  for  that !  I  won't  take  him  away, 
child,  or  do  a  thing  to  trouble  anybody  that 's  been  good 
to  him." 

44  He's  coming  now.  I  hear  Sanch  barking  at  the 
squirrels !  "  cried  Bab,  standing  up  to  get  a  good  look 
down  the  road. 

The  man  turned  quickly,  and  Betty  saw  that  he 
breathed  fast  as  he  watched  the  spot  where  the  low 
sunshine  lay  warmly  on  the  red  maple  at  the  corner. 
Into  this  glow  came  unconscious  Ben,  whistling  44  Rory 
O'Moore,"  loud  and  clear,  as  he  trudged  along  with  a 
heavy  bag  of  nuts  over  his  shoulder  and  the  light  full  on 
his  contented  face.  Sancho  trotted  before  and  saw  the 
stranger  first,  for  the  sun  in  Ben's  eyes  dazzled  him. 
Since  his  sad  loss  Sancho  cherished  a  strong  dislike  to 
tramps,  and  now  he  paused  to  growl  and  show  his 
teeth,  evidently  intending  to  warn  this  one  off  the 
premises. 

44  He  won't  hurt  you  —  "  began  Bab,  encouragingly ; 
but  before  she  could  add  a  chiding  word  to  the  dog, 
Sanch  gave  an  excited  howl,  and  flew  at  the  man's 
throat  as  if  about  to  throttle  him. 


SOMEBODY  COMES.  285 

Betty  screamed,  and  Bab  was  about  to  go  to  the 
rescue  when  both  perceived  that  the  dog  was  licking  the 
stranger's  face  in  an  ecstasy  of  joy,  and  heard  the  man 
say  as  he  hugged  the  curly  beast,  — 

4 '  Good  old  S anch !  I  knew  he  wouldn't  forget  master, 
and  he  doesn't." 

"  What 's  the  matter?  "  called  Ben,  coming  up  briskly, 
with  a  strong  grip  of  his  stout  stick. 

There  was  no  need  of  any  answer,  for,  as  he  came 
into  the  shadow,  he  saw  the  man,  and  stood  looking  at 
him  as  if  he  were  a  ghost. 

"It's  father,  Benny;  don't  you  know  me?"  asked 
the  man,  with  an  odd  sort  of  choke  in  his  voice,  as  he 
thrust  the  dog  away,  and  held  out  both  hands  to  the 
boy. 

Down  dropped  the  nuts,  and  crying,  "  Oh,  Daddy, 
Daddy ! "  Ben  cast  himself  into  the  arms  of  the  shabby 
velveteen  coat,  while  poor  Sanch  tore  round  them  in 
distracted  circles,  barking  wildly,  as  if  that  was  the 
only  way  in  which  he  could  vent  his  rapture. 

What  happened  next  Bab  and  Betty  never  stopped  to 
see,  but,  dropping  from  their  roost,  they  went  flying 
home  like  startled  Chicken  Littles  with  the  astounding 
news  that  "Ben's  father  has  come  alive,  and  Sancho 
knew  him  right  away  !  " 

Mrs  Moss  had  just  got  her  cleaning  done  up,  and  was 
resting  a  minute  before  setting  the  table,  but  she  flew 
out  of  her  old  rocking-chair  when  the  excited  children 
told  the  wonderful  tale,  exclaiming  as  they  ended,  — 

"Where  is  he?  Go  bring  him  here.  I  declare  it 
fairly  takes  my  breath  away !  " 

Before  Bab  could  obey,  or  her  mother  compose  her 


286  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

self,  Sancho  bounced  in  and  spun  round  like  an  insane 
top,  trying  to  stand  on  his  head,  walk  upright,  waltz 
and  bark  all  at  once,  for  the  good  old  fellow  had  so  lost 
his  head  that  he  forgot  the  loss  of  his  tail. 

"They  are  coming!  they  are  coming!  See,  Ma, 
what  a  nice  man  he  is,"  said  Bab,  hopping  about  on  one 
foot  as  she  watched  the  slowry  approaching  pair. 

"  M3-  patience,  don't  they  look  alike  !  I  should  know 
he  was  Ben's  Pa  anywhere  !  "  said  Mrs.  Moss,  running 
to  the  door  in  a  hurry. 

They  certainly  did  resemble  one  another,  and  it  was 
almost  comical  to  see  the  same  curve  in  the  legs,  the 
same  wide-awake  st3'le  of  wearing  the  hat,  the  same 
sparkle  of  the  eye,  good-natured  smile  and  agile  motion 
of  every  limb.  Old  Ben  carried  the  bag  in  one  hand 
while  young  Ben  held  the  other  fast,  looking  a  little 
shame-faced  at  his  own  emotion  now,  for  there  were 
marks  of  tears  on  his  cheeks,  but  too  glad  to  repress 
the  delight  he  felt  that  he  had  really  found  Daddy  this 
side  heaven. 

Mrs.  Moss  unconsciously  made  a  pretty  little  picture 
of  herself  as  she  stood  at  the  door  with  her  honest  face 
shining  and  both  hands  out,  saying  in  a  hearty  tone, 
which  was  a  welcome  in  itself,  — 

"  I'm  real  glad  to  see  you  safe  and  well,  Mr.  Brown ! 
Come  right  in  and  make  yourself  to  home.  I  guess 
there  isn't  a  happier  boy  living  than  Ben  is  to-night." 

"  And  I  know  there  isn't  a  gratefuler  man  living  than 
I  am  for  your  kindness  to  my  poor  forsaken  little  feller," 
answered  Mr.  Brown,  dropping  both  his  burdens  to  give 
the  comely  woman's  hands  a  hard  shake. 

44  Now  don't  say  a  word  about  it,  but  sit  down  and 


SOMEBODY  COMES.  287 

rest,  and  we  '11  have  tea  in  less  'n  no  time.  Ben  must 
be  tired  and  hungry,  though  he's  so  happy  I  don't  be- 
lieve he  knows  it,"  laughed  Mrs.  Moss,  bustling  away 
to  hide  the  tears  in  her  eyes,  anxious  to  make  things 
sociable  and  easy  all  round. 

With  this  end  in  view  she  set  forth  her  best  china, 
and  covered  the  table  with  food  enough  for  a  dozen, 
thanking  her  stars  that  it  was  baking  day,  and  every 
thing  had  turned  out  well.  Ben  and  his  father  sat  talk- 
ing by  the  window  till  they  were  bidden  to  "  draw  up 
and  help  themselves"  with  such  hospitable  warmth 
that  every  thing  had  an  extra  relish  to  the  hungry 
pair. 

Ben  paused  occasionally  to  stroke  the  rusty  coat- 
sleeve  with  bread-and-buttery  fingers  to  convince  him- 
self that  "  Daddy"  had  really  come,  and  his  father 
disposed  of  various  inconvenient  emotions  by  eating  as 
if  food  was  unknown  in  California.  Mrs.  Moss  beamed 
on  every  one  from  behind  the  big  tea-pot  like  a  mild 
full  moon,  while  Bab  and  Betty  kept  interrupting  one 
Another  in  their  eagerness  to  tell  something  new  about 
Ben  and  how  Sanch  lost  his  tail. 

"  Now  you  let  Mr.  Brown  talk  a  little ;  we  all  want 
to  hear  how  he  '  came  alive,'  as  you  call  it,"  said  Mrs. 
Moss,  as  they  drew  round  the  fire  in  the  "  settin'-room, 
leaving  the  tea-things  to  take  care  of  themselves. 

It  was  not  a  long  story,  but  a  very  interesting  one  to 
this  circle  of  listeners  ;  all  about  the  wild  life  on  the 
plains  trading  for  mustangs,  the  terrible  kick  from  a 
vicious  horse  that  nearly  killed  Ben,  sen. ,  the  long  months 
of  unconsciousness  in  the  California  hospital,  the  slow 
rpnovery,  the  journey  back,  Mr.  Smithers'  tale  of  the 


288  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

boy's  disappearance,  and  then  the  anxious  trip  to  find 
out  from  Squire  Allen  where  he  now  was. 

"  I  asked  the  hospital  folks  to  write  and  tell  you  as 
soon  as  1  knew  whether  I  was  on  my  head  or  my  heels, 
and  they  promised  ;  but  they  didn't ;  so  I  came  off  the 
minute  I  could,  and  worked  my  way  back,  expecting  to 
find  you  at  the  old  place.  I  was  afraid  you'd  have 
worn  out  your  welcome  here  and  gone  off  again,  for  you 
are  as  fond  of  travelling  as  your  father." 

"  I  wanted  to  sometimes,  but  the  folks  here  were  so 
dreadful  good  to  me  I  couldn't"  confessed  Ben,  secretly 
surprised  to  find  that  the  prospect  of  going  off  with 
Daddy  even  cost  him  a  pang  of  regret,  for  the  boy  had 
taken  root  in  the  friendly  soil,  and  was  no  longer  a 
wandering  thistle-down,  tossed  about  by  every  wind 
that  blew. 

"  I  know  what  I  owe  'em,  and  you  and  I  will  work 
out  that  debt  before  we  die,  or  our  name  isn't  B.  B.," 
said  Mr.  Brown,  with  an  emphatic  slap  on  his  knee, 
which  Ben  imitated  half  unconsciously  as  he  exclaimed 
heartily,  — 

"  That's  so  !  "  adding,  more  quietly,  "  What  are  you 
going  to  do  now?  Go  back  to  Smithers  and  the  old 
business  ?  " 

"Not  likely,  after  the  way  he  treated  you,  Sonny. 
E've  had  it  out  with  him,  and  he  won't  want  to  see  me 
again  in  a  hurry,"  answered  Mr.  Brown,  with  a  sudden 
kindling  of  the  eye  that  reminded  Bab  of  Ben's  face 
when  he  shook  her  after  losing  Sancho. 

"There's  more  circuses  than  his  in  the  world ;  but 
I  '11  have  to  limber  out  ever  so  much  before  I  'm  good 
for  much  in   that  line."  said  the  boy,   stretching  his 


SOMEBODY  COMES.  289 

stout  arms  and  legs  with  a  curious  mixture  of  satisfac- 
tion  and  regret. 

"  You've  been  living  in  clover  and  got  fat,  you 
rascal,"  and  his  father  gave  him  a  poke  here  and  there, 
as  Mr.  Squeers  did  the  plump  Wackford,  when  display- 
ing him  as  a  specimen  of  the  fine  diet  at  Do-the-boys 
Hall.  "  Don't  believe  I  could  put  you  up  now  if  I 
tried,  for  I  haven't  got  my  strength  back  yet,  and  we 
are  both  out  of  practice.  It 's  just  as  well,  for  I  've 
about  made  up  my  mind  to  quit  the  business  and  settle 
down  somewhere  for  a  spell,  if  I  can  get  any  thing  to 
do,"  continued  the  rider,  folding  his  arms  and  gazing 
thoughtfully  into  the  fire. 

"I  shouldn't  wonder  a  mite  if  you  could  right  here9 
for  Mr.  Towne  has  a  great  boarding- stable  over  yonder, 
and  he's  always  wanting  men,"  said  Mrs.  Moss,  eagerly, 
for  she  dreaded  to  have  Ben  go,  and  no  one  could  forbid 
it  if  his  father  chose  to  take  him  away. 

"  That  sounds  likely.  Thanky,  ma'am.  I'll  look  up 
the  concern  and  try  my  chance.  Would  you  call  it  too 
great  a  come-down  to  have  father  an  'ostler  after  being 
first  rider  in  the  '  Great  Golden  Menagerie,  Circus,  and 
Colossem,'  hey,  Ben?"  asked  Mr.  Brown,  quoting  the 
well-remembered  show-bill  with  a  laugh. 

"  No,  I  shouldn't ;  it's  real  jolly  up  there  when  the 
big  barn  is  full  and  eighty  horses  have  to  be  taken  care 
of.  I  love  to  go  and  see  'em.  Mr.  Towne  asked  me 
to  come  and  be  stable-boy  when  I  rode  the  kicking  gray 
the  rest  were  afraid  of.  I  hankered  to  go,  but  Miss 
Celia  had  just  got  my  new  books,  and  I  knew  she'd 
feel  bad  if  I  gave  up  going  to  school.  Now  I  'm  glad  J 
didn't,  for  I  get  on  first  rate  and  like  it." 

IS  H 


290  UNDER   TEE  LILACS. 

"You  done  right,  boy,  and  I'm  pleased  with  you. 
Don't  j^ou  ever  be  ungrateful  to  them  that  befriended 
you,  if  you  want  to  prosper.  I'll  tackle  the  stable 
business  a  Monday  and  see  what's  to  be  done,  Now 
I  ought  to  be  walking,  but  I  '11  be  round  in  the  morn « 
ing,  ma'am,  if  you  can  spare  Ben  for  a  spell  to-morrow. 
We'd  like  to  have  a  good  Sunday  tramp  and  talk; 
wouldn't  we,  Sonny?"  and  Mr.  Brown  rose  to  go  with 
his  hand  on  Ben's  shoulder,  as  if  loth  to  leave  him  even 
for  the  night. 

Mrs.  Moss  saw  the  longing  in  his  face,  and  forgetting 
that  he  was  an  utter  stranger,  spoke  right  out  of  her 
hospitable  heart. 

"It's  a  long  piece  to  the  tavern,  and  my  little  back 
bed-room  is  alwaj^s  ready.  It  won't  make  a  mite  of 
trouble  if  you  don't  mind  a  plain  place,  and  you  are 
heartily  welcome." 

Mr.  Brown  looked  pleased,  but  hesitated  to  accept 
any  further  favor  from  the  good  soul  who  had  already 
done  so  much  for  him  and  his.  Ben  gave  him  no  time 
to  speak,  however,  for  running  to  a  door  he  flung  it 
open  and  beckoned,  saying,  eagerly, — 

"Do  stay,  father;  it  will  be  so  nice  to  have  you. 
This  is  a  tip-top  room ;  I  slept  here  the  night  I  came, 
and  that  bed  was  just  splendid  after  bare  ground  for  a 
fortnight." 

"  I  '11  stop,  and  as  I'm  pretty  well  done  up,  I  guess 
we  may  as  well  turn  in  now,"  answered  the  new  guest 
then,  as  if  the  memory  of  that  homeless  little  lad  so 
kindly  cherished  made  his  heart  overflow  in  spite  of  him. 
Mr.  Brown  paused  at  the  door  to  say  hastily,  with  a 
hand  on  Bab  and  Betty's  heads,  as  if  his  promise  was 
a  verv  earnest  one,  — 


SOMEBODY  COMES.  291 

v<  I  don't  forget,  ma'am,  these  children  shall  never 
want  a  friend  while  Ben  Brown 's  alive  ;  "  then  he  shut 
the  door  so  quickly  that  the  other  Ben's  prompt  "  Hear, 
hear  !  "  was  cut  short  in  the  middle. 

"  I  s'pose  he  means  that  we  shall  have  a  piece  of 
Ben's  father,  because  we  gave  Ben  a  piece  of  oui 
mother,"  said  Betty,  softly. 

i(  Of  course  he  does,  and  it's  all  fair,"  answered 
Bab,  decidedly.     "  Isn't  he  a  nice  man,  Ma?" 

"  Go  to  bed,  children,"  was  all  the  answer  she  got; 
but  when  they  were  gone,  Mrs.  Moss,  as  she  washed 
up  her  dishes,  more  than  once  glanced  at  a  certain  nail 
where  a  man's  hat  had  not  hung  for  five  years,  and 
thought  with  a  sigh  what  a  natural,  protecting  air  that 
slouched  felt  had. 

If  one  wedding  were  not  quite  enough  for  a  child's 
story,  we  might  here  hint  what  no  one  dreamed  of  then, 
that  before  the  year  came  round  again  Ben  had  found  a 
mother,  Bab  and  Betty  a  father,  and  Mr.  Brown's  hat 
was  quite  at  home  behind  the  kitchen  door.  But,  on 
the  whole,  it  is  best  not  to  say  a  word  about  it. 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

THE   GREAT  GATE  IS   OPENED. 

THE  Browns  were  up  and  out  so  early  next  morn- 
ing that  Bab  and  Betty  were  sure  they  had 
run  away  in  the  night.  But  on  looking  for  them,  they 
were  discovered  in  the  coach-house  criticising  Lita,  both 
with  their  hands  in  their  pockets,  both  chewing  straws, 
and  looking  as  much  alike  as  a  big  elephant  and  a 
small  one. 

1 '  That 's  as  pretty  a  little  span  as  I  've  seen  for  a 
long  time,"  said  the  elder  Ben,  as  the  children  came 
trotting  down  the  path  hand  in  hand,  with  the  four 
blue  bows  at  the  ends  of  their  braids  bobbing  brisRiy 
up  and  down. 

"The  nigh  one  is  my  favorite,  but  the  off  one  is 
the  best  goer,  though  she's  dreadfully  hard  bitted," 
answered  Ben  the  3'ounger,  with  such  a  comical  as- 
sumption of  a  jockey's  important  air  that  his  father 
laughed  as  he  said  in  an  undertone,  — 

"  Come,  boy,  we  must  drop  the  old  slang  since  we've 
given  up  the  old  business.  These  good  folks  are  making 
a  gentleman  of  you,  and  I  won't  be  the  one  to  spoil 
their  work.  Hold  on,  my  dears,  and  I  '11  show  you  how 
they  say  good-morning  in  California,"  he  added,  beck- 
oning to  the  little  girls,  who  now  came  up  rosy  and 
smiling 


THE    GREAT   GATE    IS   OPENED.  293 

"Breakfast  is  ready,  sir,"  said  Betty,  looking  much 
relieved  to  find  them. 

"We  thought  you'd  run  away  from  us,"  explained 
Bab,  as  both  put  out  their  hands  to  shake  those  ex- 
tended to  them. 

"That  would  be  a  mean  trick.  But  I'm  going  to 
run  away  with  you,"  and  Mr.  Brown  whisked  a  little 
girl  to  either  shoulder  before  they  knew  what  had  hap- 
pened, while  Ben,  remembering  the  day,  with  difficulty 
restrained  himself  from  turning  a  series  of  triumphant 
somersaults  before  them  all  the  way  to  the  door,  where 
Mrs.  Moss  stood  waiting  for  them. 

After  breakfast  Ben  disappeared  for  a  short  time, 
and  returned  in  his  Sunday  suit,  looking  so  neat  and 
fresh  that  his  father  surve3red  him  with  surprise  and 
pride  as  he  came  in  full  of  boyish  satisfaction  in  his 
trim  array. 

"  Here 's  a  smart  young  chap  !  Did  you  take  all  that 
trouble  just  to  go  to  walk  with  old  Daddy?  "  asked  Mr. 
Brown,  stroking  the  smooth  head,  for  they  were  alone 
just  then,  Mrs.  Moss  and  the  children  being  upstairs 
preparing  for  church. 

"  I  thought  may  be  you  'd  like  to  go  to  meeting  first," 
answered  Ben,  looking  up  at  him  with  such  a  happy  face 
that  it  was  hard  to  refuse  any  thing. 

"I'm  too  shabby,  Sonny,  else  I'd  go  in  a  minute  to 
please  you. 

"  Miss  Celia  said  God  didn't  mind  poor  clothes,  and 
she  took  me  when  I  looked  worse  than  you  do.  I  al- 
ways go  in  the  morning ;  she  likes  to  have  me,"  said 
Ben,  turning  his  hat  about  as  if  rot  quite  sure  what  he 
ought  to  do. 


294  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

"  Do  3'ou  want  to  go?  "  asked  his  father  in  a  tone  of 
surprise. 

k'I  want  to  please  her,  if  you  don't  mind.  We 
could  have  our  tramp  this  afternoon." 

"  I  haven't  been  to  meeting  since  mother  died,  and 
it  don't  seem  to  come  easy,  though  I  know  I  ought  to, 
seeing  I'm  alive  and  here,"  and  Mr.  Brown  looked 
soberly  out  at  the  lovely  autumn  world  as  if  glad  to  be 
in  it  after  his  late  danger  and  pain. 

4 'Miss  Celia  said  church  was  a  good  place  to  take 
our  troubles,  and  to  be  thankful  in.  I  went  when  I 
thought  you  were  dead,  and  now  I  'd  love  to  go  when 
I've  got  my  Dadd}T  safe  again." 

No  one  saw  him,  so  Ben  could  not  resist  giving  his 
father  a  sudden  hug,  which  was  warmly  returned  as  the 
man  said  earnestly,  — 

"I'll  go,  and  thank  the  Lord  he  art}-  for  giving  me 
back  my  boy  better  'n  I  left  him  !  " 

For  a  minute  nothing  was  heard  but  the  loud  tick 
of  the  old  clock  and  a  mournful  whine  from  Sancho, 
shut  up  in  the  shed  lest  he  should  go  to  church  without 
an  invitation. 

Then,  as  steps  were  heard  on  the  stairs,  Mr.  Brown 
caught  up  his  hat,  saying  hastily,  — 

"  I  ain't  fit  to  go  with  them,  you  tell  'em,  and  I'll 
slip  into  a  back  seat  after  folks  are  in.  I  know  the 
way."     And,  before  Ben  could  reply,  he  was  gone. 

Nothing  was  seen  of  him  along  the  way,  but  he  saw 
the  little  party,  and  rejoiced  again  over  his  boy,  changed 
in  so  many  ways  for  the  better ;  for  Ben  was  the  one 
thing  which  had  kept  his  heart  soft  through  all  the  trials 
and  temptations  of  a  rough  life. 


THE   GREAT  GATE  IS   OPENED.         295 

"  I  promised  Mary  I  'd  do  my  best  for  the  poor  baby 
she  had  to  leave,  and  I  tried  ;  but  I  guess  a  better  friend 
than  I  am  has  been  raised  up  for  him  when  he  needed 
her  most.  It  won't  hurt  me  to  follow  him  in  this  road," 
thought  Mr.  Brown,  as  he  came  out  into  the  highway 
from  his  stroll  "  across-lots,"  feeling  that  it  would  be 
good  for  him  to  stay  in  this  quiet  place,  for  his  own  as 
well  as  his  son's  sake. 

The  bell  had  done  ringing  when  he  reached  the  green, 
but  a  single  boy  sat  on  the  steps  and  ran  to  meet  him, 
saying,  with  a  reproachful  look,  — 

"  I  wasn't  going  to  let  }tou  be  alone,  and  have  folks 
think  I  was  ashamed  of  my  father.  Come,  Daddy, 
we  '11  sit  together." 

So  Ben  led  his  father  straight  to  the  Squire's  pew, 
and  sat  beside  him  with  a  face  so  full  of  innocent  pride 
and  joy,  that  people  would  have  suspected  the  truth  if 
he  had  not  already  told  many  of  them.  Mr.  Brown, 
painfully  conscious  of  his  shabby  coat,  was  rather 
"taken  aback,"  as  he  expressed  it;  but  the  Squire's 
shake  of  the  hand,  and  Mrs.  Allen's  gracious  nod 
enabled  him  to  face  the  e}Tes  of  the  interested  congre- 
gation, the  younger  portion  of  which  stared  steadily 
at  him  all  sermon  time,  in  spite  of  paternal  frowns  and 
maternal  tweakings  in  the  rear. 

But  the  crowning  glory  of  the  day  came  after  church, 
when  the  Squire  said  to  Ben,  and  Sam  heard  him,  — 

"I've  got  a  letter  for  you  from  Miss  Celia.  Come 
home  with  me,  and  bring  your  father.  I  want  to  talk 
to  him." 

The  boy  proudly  escorted  his  parent  to  the  old  carry- 
all, and,   tucking  himself  in  behind  with  Mrs.  Allen, 


296  UNDER    TEE  LILACS. 

had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  the  slouched  felt  hat  side 
b}^  side  with  the  Squire's  Sunday  beaver  in  front,  as  they 
drove  off  at  such  an  unusually  smart  pace,  it  was  evi- 
dent that  Duke  knew  there  was  a  critical  eye  upon  him. 
The  interest  taken  in  the  father  was  owing  to  the  son  at 
first ;  but,  by  the  time  the  story  was  told,  old  Ben  had 
won  friends  for  himself,  not  only  because  of  the  mis- 
fortunes which  he  had  evidently  borne  in  a  manly  way, 
but  because  of  his  delight  in  the  boy's  improvement, 
and  the  desire  he  felt  to  turn  his  hand  to  any  honest 
work,  that  he  might  keep  Ben  happy  and  contented  in 
this  good  home. 

"I'll  give  3rou  a  line  to  Towne.  Smithers  spoke  well 
of  you,  and  your  own  ability  will  be  the  best  recommen- 
dation," said  the  Squire,  as  he  parted  from  them  at  his 
door,  having  given  Ben  the  letter. 

Miss  Celia  had  been  gone  a  fortnight,  and  every  one 
was  longing  to  have  her  back.  The  first  week  brought 
Ben  a  newspaper,  with  a  crinkly  line  drawn  round  the 
marriages  to  attract  attention  to  that  spot,  and  one  was 
marked  by  a  black  frame  with  a  large  hand  pointing  at 
it  from  the  margin.  Thorny  sent  that ;  but  the  next 
week  came  a  parcel  for  Mrs.  Moss,  and  in  it  was  dis- 
covered a  box  of  wedding-cake  for  every  member  of  the 
family,  including  Sancho,  who  ate  his  at  one  gulp,  and 
chewed  up  the  lace  paper  which  covered  it.  This  was 
the  third  week  ;  and,  as  if  there  could  not  be  happiness 
enough  crowded  into  it  for  Ben,  the  letter  he  read  on 
his  way  home  told  him  that  his  dear  mistress  was  com- 
ing back  on  the  following  Saturday.  One  passage  par- 
ticularly pleased  him,  — 

"  I  want  the  great  gate  opened,   so  that  the   new 


THE  GREAT  GATE  IS   OPENED.         297 

master  may  go  in  that  way.  Will  you  see  that  it  is 
done,  and  all  made  neat  afterward  ?  Randa  will  give 
you  the  key,  and  you  may  have  out  all  your  flags  if 
you  like,  for  the  old  place  cannot  look  too  gay  for  this 
home-coming." 

Sunday  though  it  was,  Ben  could  not  help  waving  the 
letter  over  his  head  as  he  ran  in  to  tell  Mrs.  Moss  the 
glad  news,  and  begin  at  once  to  plan  the  welcome  they 
would  give  Miss  Celia,  for  he  never  called  her  any  thing 
else. 

During  their  afternoon  stroll  in  the  mellow  sunshine, 
Ben  continued  to  talk  of  her,  never  tired  of  telling  about 
his  happy  summer  under  her  roof.  And  Mr.  Brown  was 
never  weary  of  hearing,  for  every  hour  showed  him 
more  plainly  what  a  lovely  miracle  her  gentle  words 
had  wrought,  and  every  hour  increased  his  gratitude, 
his  desire  to  return  the  kindness  in  some  humble  way. 
He  had  his  wish,  and  did  his  part  handsomely  when  he 
least  expected  to  have  a  chance. 

On  Monday  he  saw  Mr.  Towne,  and,  thanks  to  the 
Squire's  good  word,  was  engaged  for  a  month  on  trial, 
making  himself  so  useful  that  it  was  soon  evident  he 
was  the  right  man  in  the  right  place.  He  lived  on  the 
hill,  but  managed  to  get  down  to  the  little  brown  house 
in  the  evening  for  a  word  with  Ben,  who  just  now  was 
as  full  of  business  as  if  the  President  and  his  Cabinet 
were  coming. 

E^ery  thing  was  put  in  apple-pie  order  in  and  about 
the  old  house ;  the  great  gate,  with  much  creaking  of 
rusty  hinges  and  some  clearing  away  of  rubbish,  was 
set  wide  open,  and  the  first  creature  who  entered  it 
was  sancho,  solemnlv  dragging  the  dead  mullein  which 
13* 


298  UNDER   THE  LILACS. 

long  ago  had  grown  above  the  key-hole.  October  frosts 
seemed  to  have  spared  some  of  the  brightest  leaves  for 
this  especial  occasion ;  and  on  Saturday  the  arched 
gate- way  was  hung  with  gay  wreaths,  red  and  yellow 
sprays  strewed  the  flags,  and  the  porch  was  a  blaze  of 
color  with  the  red  woodbine,  that  was  in  its  glory  when 
the  honeysuckle  was  leafless. 

Fortunately  it  was  a  half-holiday,  so  the  children 
oould  trim  and  chatter  to  their  heart's  content,  and  the 
little  girls  ran  about  sticking  funny  decorations  where 
no  one  would  ever  think  of  looking  for  them.  Ben  was 
absorbed  in  his  flags,  which  were  sprinkled  all  down 
the  avenue  with  a  lavish  display,  suggesting  several 
Fourth  of  Julys  rolled  into  one.  Mr.  Brown  had  come 
to  lend  a  hand,  and  did  so  most  energetically,  for  the 
break-neck  things  he  did  with  his  son  during  the  dec- 
oration fever  would  have  terrified  Mrs.  Moss  out  of  her 
wits,  if  she  had  not  been  in  the  house  giving  last  touches 
to  every  room,  while  Randa  and  Kat}7  set  forth  a  sump- 
tuous tea. 

A_  was  going  well,  and  the  train  would  be  due  in 
an  hour,  when  luckless  Bab  nearly  turned  the  rejoic* 
ing  into  mourning,  the  feast  into  ashes.  She  heard 
her  mother  say  to  Randa,  "  There  ought  to  be  a  lire  in 
every  room,  it  looks  so  cheerful,  and  the  air  is  chilly 
Bpite  of  the  sunshine  ; "  and,  never  waiting  to  hear  the 
reply  that  some  of  the  long-unused  chimneys  were  not 
safe  till  cleaned,  off  went  Bab  with  an  apron  full  of  old 
shingles,  and  made  a  roaring  blaze  in  the  front  room 
fire-place,  which  was  of  all  others  the  one  to  be  let  alone, 
as  the  flue  was  out  of  order.  Charmed  with  the  brilliant 
light  and  the  crackle  of  the  tindery  fuel,  Miss  Bab  re- 


THE   GREAT  GATE  IS   OPENED.         299 

filled  her  apron,  and  fed  the  fire  till  the  chimney  began 
to  rumble  ominously,  sparks  to  fly  out  at  the  top,  and 
soot  and  swallows'  nests  to  come  tumbling  down  upon 
the  hearth  Then,  scared  at  what  she  had  done,  the 
little  mischief-maker  hastily  buried  her  fire,  swept  up  the 
rubbish,  an  3  ran  off,  thinking  no  one  would  discover  hei 
prank  if  she  never  told. 

Everybody  was  very  busy,  and  the  big  chimney  blazed 
and  rumbled  unnoticed  till  the  cloud  of  smoke  caught 
Ben's  eye  as  he  festooned  his  last  effort  in  the  flag 
line,  part  of  an  old  sheet  with  the  words  "  Father  has 
come ! "  in  red  cambric  letters  half  a  foot  long  sewed 
upon  it. 

"  Hullo  !  I  do  believe  they've  got  up  a  bonfire  with- 
out asking  my  leave.  Miss  Celia  never  would  let  us, 
because  the  sheds  and  roofs  are  so  old  and  dry ;  I  must 
see  about  it.  Catch  me,  Daddy,  I  'm  coming  down  !  " 
cried  Ben,  dropping  out  of  the  elm  with  no  more  thought 
of  where  he  might  light  than  a  squirrel  swinging  from 
bough  to  bough. 

His  father  caught  him,  and  followed  in  haste  as  hia 
nimble-footed  son  raced  up  the  avenue,  to  stop  in  the 
gate-way,  frightened  at  the  prospect  before  him,  for 
falling  sparks  had  already  kindled  the  roof  here  and 
there,  and  the  chimney  smoked  and  roared  like  a  small 
volcano,  while  Katy's  wails  and  Randa's  cries  for  watei 
came  from  within. 

"  Up  there  with  wet  blankets,  while  I  get  out  the 
hose ! "  cried  Mr.  Brown,  as  he  saw  at  a  glance  what 
the  danger  was. 

Ben  vanished ;  and,  before  his  father  got  the  garden 
hose  rigged,  he  was  on  the  roof  with  a  dripping  blanket 


300  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

over  the  worst  spot.  Mrs.  Moss  had  her  wits  about 
her  in  a  minute,  and  ran  to  put  in  the  fire-board,  and 
stop  the  draught.  Then,  stationing  Randa  to  watch 
that  the  falling  cinders  did  no  harm  inside,  she  hurried 
off  to  help  Mr.  Brown,  who  might  not  know  where  things 
were.  But  he  had  roughed  it  so  long,  that  he  was  the 
man  for  emergencies,  and  seemed  to  lay  his  hand  or 
whatever  was  needed,  by  a  sort  of  instinct.  Finding 
that  the  hose  was  too  short  to  reach  the  upper  part  of 
the  roof,  he  was  on  the  roof  in  a  jiffy  with  two  pails 
of  water,  and  quenched  the  most  dangerous  spots  before 
much  harm  was  done.  This  he  kept  up  till  the  chimney 
burned  itself  out,  while  Ben  dodged  about  among  the 
gables  with  a  watering-pot,  lest  some  stray  sparks  should 
be  overlooked,  and  break  out  afresh. 

While  they  worked  there,  Bett}r  ran  to  and  fro  with 
a  dipper  of  water,  tr}ing  to  help ;  and  Sancho  barked 
violently,  as  if  he  objected  to  this  sort  of  illumination. 
But  where  was  Bab,  who  revelled  in  flurries?  No  one 
missed  her  till  the  fire  was  out,  and  the  tired,  sooty 
people  met  to  talk  over  the  danger  just  escaped. 

"  Poor  Miss  Celia  wouldn't  have  had  a  roof  over  her 
head,  if  it  hadn't  been  for  you,  Mr.  Brown,"  sail. 
Mrs.  Moss,  sinking  into  a  kitchen  chair,  pale  with  the 
excitement. 

"It  would  have  burnt  lively,  but  I  guess  it's  all 
right  now.  Keep  an  eye  on  the  roof,  Ben,  and  I'll 
step  up  garret  and  see  if  all's  safe  there.  Didn't 
you  know  that  chimney  was  foul,  ma'am  ? "  asked  the 
man,  as  he  wiped  the  perspiration  off  his  grimy 
face. 

"Randa  said  it  was,  and  I'm  surprised  she  made  a 


THE   GREAT  GATE  IS   OPENED.         301 

fire  there,"  began  Mrs.  Moss,  looking  at  the  maid,  who 
just  then  came  in  with  a  pan  full  of  soot. 

"  Bless  you,  ma'am,  I  never  thought  of  such  a  thing, 
nor  Katy  neither.  That  naughty  Bab  must  have  done 
it,  and  so  don't  dar'st  to  show  herself,"  answered  the 
irate  Randa,  whose  nice  room  was  in  a  mess. 

"  Where  is  the  child?"  asked  her  mother  ;  and  a  hunt 
was  immediately  instituted  by  Betty  and  Sancho,  while 
the  elders  cleared  up. 

Anxious  Betty  searched  high  and  low,  called  and 
cried,  but  all  in  vain ;  and  was  about  to  sit  down  in 
despair,  when  Sancho  made  a  bolt  into  his  new  kennel 
and  brought  out  a  shoe  with  a  foot  in  it  while  a  doleful 
squeal  came  from  the  straw  within. 

"Oh,  Bab,  how  could  you  do  it?  Ma  was  fright- 
ened dreadfully,"  said  Betty,  gently  tugging  at  the 
striped  leg,  as  Sancho  poked  his  head  in  for  another 
shoe. 

"  Is  it  all  burnt  up?"  demanded  a  smothered  voice 
from  the  recesses  of  the  kennel. 

"  Only  pieces  of  the  roof.  Ben  and  his  father  put  it 
out,  and  /  helped,"  answered  Betty,  cheering  up  a  little 
as  she  recalled  her  noble  exertions. 

"What  do  they  do  to  folks  who  set  houses  afire?1" 
asked  the  voice  again. 

"  I  don't  know  ;  but  you  needn't  be  afraid,  there  isn't 
much  harm  done,  I  guess,  and  Miss  Celia  will  forgive 
you,  she 's  so  good." 

"  Thorny  won't ;  he  calls  me  a  'botheration,'  and  I 
guess  I  am,"  mourned  the  unseen  culprit,  with  sincere 
condition. 

u  I  '11  ask  him ;  he  is  always  good  to  me.     They  wilJ 


302  UNDER    THE  LILACS. 

be  here  pretty  soon,  so  you  'd  better  come  out  and  bo 
made  tid}7,"  suggested  the  comforter. 

"  I  never  can  come  out,  for  every  one  will  hate  me,' 
sobbed  Bab  among  the  straw,  as  she  pulled  in  her  foot, 
as  if  retiring  for  ever  from  an  outraged  world. 

"Ma  won't,  she's  too  busy  cleaning  up;  so  it's  a 
good  time  to  come.  Let 's  run  home,  wash  our  hands, 
and  be  all  nice  when  they  see  us.  I  '11  love  jTou,  no 
matter  what  anybody  else  does,"  said  Betty,  consoling 
the  poor  little  sinner,  and  proposing  the  sort  of  repent- 
ance most  likely  to  find  favor  in  the  eyes  of  the 
agitated  elders. 

"  P'raps  I  'd  better  go  home,  for  Sanch  will  want  his 
bed,"  and  Bab  gladly  availed  herself  of  that  excuse  to 
back  out  of  her  refuge,  a  very  crumpled,  dusty  young 
lady,  with  a  dejected  face  and  much  straw  sticking  in 
her  hair. 

Betty  led  her  sadly  away,  for  she  still  protested  that 
she  never  should  dare  to  meet  the  offended  public  again  ; 
but  in  fifteen  minutes  both  appeared  in  fine  order  and 
good  spirits,  and  naughty  Bab  escaped  a  lecture  for  the 
time  being,  as  the  train  would  soon  be  due. 

At  the  first  sound  of  the  car  whistle  every  one  turned 
good-natured  as  if  by  magic,  and  flew  to  the  gate 
smiling  as  if  all  mishaps  were  forgiven  and  forgotten. 
Mrs.  Moss,  however,  slipped  quietly  away,  and  was 
the  first  to  greet  Mrs.  Celia  as  the  carnage  stopped  at 
the  entrance  of  the  avenue,  so  that  the  luggage  might 
go  in  by  way  of  the  lodge. 

"  We  will  walk  up  and  you  shall  tell  us  the  news  as 
we  go,  for  I  see  you  have  some,"  said  the  young  lady, 
in  her  friendly  manner,  when  Mrs.  Moss  had  given  her 


THE  GREAT  GATE  IS   OPENED.         303 

welcome  and  paid  her  respects  to  the  gentleman  who 
shook  hands  in  a  way  that  convinced  her  he  was  indeed 
what  Thorny  called  him,  "regularly  jolly,"  though  he 
was  a  minister. 

That  being  exactly  what  she  came  for,  the  good 
woman  told  her  tidings  as  rapidly  as  possible,  and  the 
lew-comers  were  so  glad  to  hear  of  Ben's  happiness 
they  made  very  light  of  Bab's  bonfire,  though  it  had 
nearly  burnt  their  house  down. 

"  We  won't  say  a  word  about  it,  for  every  one  must 
be  happy  to-day,"  said  Mr.  George,  so  kindly  that  Mrs. 
Moss  felt  a  load  taken  off  her  heart  at  once. 

"  Bab  was  always  teasing  me  for  fire- works,  but  I 
guess  she  has  had  enough  for  the  present,"  laughed 
Thorny,  who  was  gallantly  escorting  Bab's  mother  up 
the  avenue. 

"  Every  one  is  so  kind  !  Teacher  was  out  with  the 
children  to  cheer  us  as  we  passed,  and  here  you  all  are 
making  things  pretty  for  me,"  said  Mrs.  Celia,  smiling 
with  tears  in  her  eyes,  as  they  drew  near  the  great 
gate,  which  certainly  did  present  an  animated  if  not  an 
imposing  appearance. 

Rancla  and  Katy  stood  on  one  side,  all  in  their  best, 
bobbing  delighted  courtesies  ;  Mr.  Brown,  half  hidden 
behind  the  gate  on  the  other  side,  was  keeping  Sancho 
erect,  so  that  he  might  present  arms  promptly  when  the 
bride  appeared.  As  flowers  were  scarce,  on  either  post 
stood  a  rosy  little  girl  clapping  her  hands,  while  out 
from  the  thicket  of  red  and  yellow  boughs,  which  made  a 
grand  bouquet  in  the  lantern  frame,  came  Ben's  head 
and  shoulders,  as  he  waved  his  grandest  flag  with  its 
gold  paper  "  Welcome  Home !  "  on  a  blue  ground 


304  UNDER   THE  LILACS. 

"  Isn't  it  beautiful !  "  ened  Mrs.  Celia,  throwing  kisses 
to  the  children,  shaking  hands  with  her  maids,  and 
glancing  brightly  at  the  stranger  who  was  keeping 
Sanch  quiet. 

"  Most  people  adorn  their  gate-posts  with  stone  balls, 
vases,  or  griffins ;  jour  living  images  are  a  great  im- 
provement, love,  especially  the  happy  boy  in  the 
middle,"  said  Mr.  George,  eying  Ben  with  interest,  as 
he  nearly  tumbled  overboard,  top-heavy  with  his 
banner. 

"  You  must  finish  what  I  have  only  begun,"  answered 
Celia,  adding  gayly  as  Sancho  broke  loose  and  came 
to  offer  both  his  paw  and  his  congratulations,  "  Sanch, 
introduce  your  master,  that  I  may  thank  him  for  com- 
ing back  in  time  to  save  my  old  house." 

"If  I  'd  saved  a  dozen  it  wouldn't  have  half  paid  for 
all  you've  done  for  my  boy,  ma'am,"  answered  Mr. 
Brown,  bursting  out  from  behind  the  gate  quite  red  with 
gratitude  and  pleasure. 

"  I  loved  to  do  it,  so  please  remember  that  this 
is  still  his  home  till  you  make  one  for  him.  Thank 
God,  he  is  no  longer  fatherless ! "  and  her  sweet  face 
said  even  more  than  her  words  as  the  white  hand  cor- 
dially shook  the  brown  one  with  a  burn  across  the 
back. 

"  Come  on,  sister.  I  see  the  tea-table  all  ready,  and 
f  'm  awfully  hungry,"  interrupted  Thorny,  who  had  not 
a  ray  of  sentiment  about  him,  though  very  glad  Ben  had 
got  his  father  back  again. 

4 'Come  over,  by  and  by,  little  friends,  and  let  me 
thank  you  for  your  pretty  welcome,  — it  certainly  is  a 
warm  one ; "  and  Mrs.  Celia  glanced  merrily  from  the 


THE   GREAT  GATE  IS   OPENED.         305 

three  bright  faces  above  her  to  the  old  chimney,  which 
still  smoked  sullenly. 

•*  Oh,  don't !  "  cried  Bab,  hiding  her  face. 

■*  She  didn't  mean  to,"  added  Betty,  pleadingly. 

■•  Three  cheers  for  the  bride  !  "  roared  Ben,  dipping 
his  flag,  as  leaning  on  her  husband's  arm  his  dear  mis- 
tress passed  under  the  gay  arch,  along  the  leaf-strewn 
walk,  over  the  threshold  of  the  house  which  was  to  be 
her  happy  home  for  many  years. 

The  closed  gate  where  the  lonely  little  wanderer  once 
lay  was  always  to  stand  open  now,  and  the  path  where 
children  played  before  was  free  to  all  comers,  for  a  hos- 
pitable welcome  henceforth  awaited  rich  and  poor, 
young  and  old,  sad  and  gay,  Under  the  Lilacs. 


University  Press :  John  Wilson  &  Son,  Cambridge. 


THE   PAVOEITE   ATJTHOE, 


LOUISA  M.  ALCOTT, 

HEH    LIFE,    LETTERS,    AND    JOURNALS. 

Edited  by  EDNAH  D.  CHENEY. 

With  Portraits  and  View  of  the  Alcott  Home  in  Concord. 

One  vol.   i6mo.    Uniform  with  "  Little  Women." 

Price,  #1.50. 

Mrs.  Cheney  has  allowed  this  popular  author  to  tell  the  story  of  her  early 
struggles,  her  successes,  and  prosperity  and  life  work,  in  her  own  inimitable  style, 
gracefully  weaving  the  daily  record  of  this  sweet  and  useful  life  into  a  garland  of 
immortelles,  in  a  manner  at  once  pleasing  and  within  the  comprehension  of  the 
thousands  of  readers  and  admirers  of  Miss  Alcott's  books.  It  might  truly  be 
called  the  biography  of  "  Little  Women." 


A  most  fascinating  as  well  as  a  deeply  pathetic  book.  The  story,  —  the  long,  hard 
struggle  for  money  to  keep  the  household  in  comfort,  and  the  well-earned  success  coming, 
alas,  too  late  to  save  her  health,  —  is  delightfully  told  in  her  own  words,  from  letters  and 
journals,  so  that  we  have  the  bright,  the  witty,  and  the  always  charming  personality  of  the 
children's  author  before  us  from  the  first  page  to  the  last.  We  have  to  thank  Mrs.  Cheney 
that  she  hid  not  from  us  the  hard,  grinding  toil,  nor  spared  us  the  record  of  one  discour- 
agement in  the  life  so  interesting  to  us;  for  in  this  narrative  we  have  a  valuable  lesson 
for  the  young  writer  of  our  day.  —  The  Epoch. 

One  who  knew  Miss  Alcott  well  says  :  "  Nobody  can  read  of  the  struggles  of  the 
Alcott  family,  and  of  the  tender  yet  resolute  heroism  with  which  Miss  Alcott  met  and 
relieved  them,  without  being  touched  to  tears  by  the  pathos  and  reality  of  the  picture. 
Louisa  Alcott  was  not  a  member  of  any  church  ;  but  her  belief  in  God,  her  loyalty  to  con- 
science, her  fidelity  to  duty,  her  rescue  of  the  Alcott  family  from  its  peculiar  perils,  place 
her  among  the  women  saints  of  the  century,  and  it  will  De  hard  to  find  any  one  of  her  sex 
who  has  more  faithfully  responded  to  the  duties  of  the  position  in  which  God  had  placed 
her." — Cincinnati  Commercial  Gazette. 

Louisa  May  Alcott  is  without  a  rival  as  a  writer  for  the  young.  The  millions  who  have 
read  her  stories — and  been  made  better  by  the  reading — will  want  this  book  that  they  may 
get  near  the  inner  life,  the  fruitful  source  of  their  entertainment  and  profit.  They  will  see 
that  purity,  simplicity,  love,  earnestness,  and  patience  were  so  interwoven  with  her  genius 
that  her  stories  were  the  natural  outgrowth  of  her  beautiful  character.  The  book  needs 
no  commendation  from  us.  Every  reader  of  her  stories  will  be  glad  to  know  that  they 
may  now  become  intimately  acquainted  with  that  beautiful  life  which  is  here  brought  out 
of  its  long  cherished  seclusion.  —  Saturday  Evening  Herald. 


ROBERTS   BROTHERS,  Publishers, 
BOSTON. 


LOUISA  M.  ALCOTT'S  FAMOUS  BOOKS. 


WALTON   HICKET30N,  SCULP. 


1 


^^^^     ^*^^c^5f^ 


JO'S  BOYS,  AND  HOW  THEY  TURNED  OUT.  A 
J  sequel  to  "  Little  Men."  With  a  new  portrait  of  "  Aunt 
Jo."    Price,  $1.50. 

EOBEETS  BEOTHEES,  Publishers,  Boston. 


LOUISA  M.  ALOOTT'S  FAMOUS  BOOKS 


**  Sing,  Tessa;  sing  ! "  cried Tommo,  twanging  away  with  all  bis  might.  —  Page  47. 

AUNT  JO'S  SCRAP-BAG:  Containing  "My  Boys," 
"Shawl-Straps,"  "Cupid  and  Chow-Chow,"  "  My  Girls,"  "Jimmy's 
Cruise  in  the  Pinafore,"  "  An  Old-Fashioned  Thanksgiving."  6  vols. 
Price  of  each,  $1.00. 

ROBERTS   BROTHERS,  Publishers,  Boston. 


COUISA  M,  ALOOTT'S  FAMOUS  BOOKS. 


I      a 


as  < 


HOSPITAL   SKETCHES.     Price,  gi.50. 

ROBERTS   BROTHERS.  Publishers.  Boston 


LOUISA  M.  ALCOTT'S  FAMOUS  BOOKS 


LITTLE   WOMEN  ;   or,  Meg,  Jo,  Beth,  and  Amy. 
One  volume,  complete.     Price,  $1.50. 

ROBERTS   BROTHERS,  Publishers,  Boston. 


SUSAN    COOLIDGE'S 
POPULAR  STORY   BOOKS. 


Susan  Coolidge  has  always  possessed  the  Section  of  her  young  readers, 
for  it  seems  as  if  she  had  the  happy  instinct  of  planning  stories  that  each  girl 
would  like  to  act  out  in  reality.  —  Tlie  Critic. 

Susan  Coolidge's  books  need  no  commending  j  they  are  as  tempting  as  they 
are  sweet  and  pure.  She  knows  how  to  make  attractive  everything  she  touches; 
and  good  literature,  good  English,  does  not  suffer  at  her  hands,  while  the  refine- 
ment of  tone  and  moral  fibre  are  all  that  could  be  desired.  —  The  Literary 
World. 

Not  even  Miss  Alcott  apprehends  child  nature  with  finer  sympathy,  or  pic- 
tures its  nobler  traits  with  more  skill.  —  Bostoft  Daily  A  dvertiser. 


THE  NEW  YEAR'S  BARGAIN.  A  Christmas  Story  for 
Children.  With  Illustrations  by  AddieLedyard.   i6mo.  $1.25. 

WHAT  KATY  DID.  A  Story.  With  Illustrations  by  Addik 
Ledyard.     i6mo.    $1.25. 

WHAT  KATY  DID  AT  SCHOOL.  Being  more  about 
"What  Katy  Did."     With  Illustrations.     i6mo.     #1.25. 

MISCHIEF'S  THANKSGIVING,  and  other  Stories.  With 
Illustrations  by  Addie  Ledyard.     i6mo.    #1.25. 

NINE  LITTLE  GOSLINGS.  With  Illustrations  by  J.  A. 
Mitchell.     i6mo.    $1.25. 

EYEB RIGHT.     A  Story.     With  Illustrations.     i6mo.     $1.25. 

CROSS    PATCH.     With  Illustrations.     i6mo.     $1.25. 

A    ROUND    DOZEN.     With  Illustrations.     i6mo.     $1.25. 

A   LITTLE  COUNTRY  GIRL.     With  Illustrations.     i6mo. 

$1.25. 
WHAT  KATY  DID  NEXT.  With  Illustrations.  i6mo.  $1.25. 
CLOVER.   A  Sequel  to  the  Katy  Books.    With  Illustrations  by 

Jessie  McDermott.     i6mo.    $1.25. 
JUST    SIXTEEN.     With  Illustrations.     i6mo.     $1.25. 
IN  THE  HIGH  VALLEY.    With  Illustrations.    i6mo.  $1.25. 

A  GUERNSEY  LILY;  or,  How  the  Feud  was  Healed.  A 
Story  of  the  Channel  Islands.  Profusely  Illustrated.  One 
small  quarto  volume,  bound  in  illuminated  cloth.     #2.00. 

Sold  by  all  booksellers.     Mailed,  post-paid,  on  receipt  of  price,  by 

the  publishers, 

ROBERTS   BROTHERS,  Boston. 


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